


AndroidHunter

by romocon



Series: DBH & SPN AU [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, LGBTQ Character, Language, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Sam Winchester, Team Free Will (Supernatural), This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This Is STUPID, and this has mulitple hiatuses bc i cant stay focused, i hope u enjoy, i was inspired one night, not sure what else to tag this, some nonbinary characters bc i can, the sequel no one asked for two years later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romocon/pseuds/romocon
Summary: SEQUEL TO DEVIANTSHIFTER. READ IT FIRST.Three months ago, hunters Sam, Dean and Castiel traveled to the year 2038 to assist in a shapeshifter case. Along the way, they met the android Connor and officer Hank Anderson. The problem was solved and they traveled back to their time.But something new is stirring. Something bigger and more organized than they thought. With a hospital admittance, Connor is struggling on what to do next.That is, until Sam, Dean and Castiel return once again to help.
Series: DBH & SPN AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038336
Kudos: 7





	1. Reflection

"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled.

He slammed the door as he and two others made their way into the bunker. Setting their things down, he headed to the kitchen, another sat at the main table, and the last stood and watched.

Sam, who was Dean's brother, sighed. "I hope we got all of them."

Dean rummaged around in the fridge before finding a good bottle for himself and another for Sam. He turned and shut the door before walking himself back into the main area of the bunker.

Dean slid the bottle to Sam; while his brother doesn't drink too often, Dean offered one anyways because it had been one hell of a case.

Castiel, however, nod his head. "I double checked. One couldn't have escaped."

Dean picked at the crusted blood on his flannel, grimacing slightly. Sam moved his things before taking a swig of his beer and opening his laptop.

"But we got it done," Sam told them. "We had to."

Dean shrugged. "They didn't make it any easier."

"In their eyes, they weren't doing anything wrong, Dean," Castiel pointed out.

Dean scoffed before standing up. "Well no shit but when's the last time we had a simple job?"

"Long time," Sam replied sighing.

Dean grabbed his things and slung them over his shoulder. "You two keep hanging out here. I'm gonna go change my damn shirt." He walked away. "Thing's so crusted with blood..."

Castiel finally decided to sit down. "To think we originally thought we were dealing with shifters.."

"Reminded me of when we visited Hank and Connor," Sam smiled. "Only three months ago."

Castiel frowned. "The year 2038. And no one had shown up to handle that case besides us."

Sam looked at Cas. "What're you thinking?"

"Maybe it had changed so much," he mumbled, "that there are so few hunters to help."

Sam nodded. "But seeing as Hank and Connor were surprised with the case at first, who's to say monsters haven't died out?"

"Plastic was only like a few months old, Sam," Dean smirked as he walked back into the main area with a clean shirt and different pants. "As for the Hank guy, not sure."

"All the advancements," Sam marveled as he took his hands off of his laptop. "It'll really be like that when the time comes."

"If," Castiel butt in, "you're.. alive."

The mood around them all dropped a little. Dean focused on his beer and Sam went back to his laptop.

But Sam spoke up first. "The shifter told me about that a little. It mentioned that I'd.. disappeared somehow." He looked at Dean and nodded. "And you tried to find me but with no luck."

Dean scoffed and drank his beer. "Any word on Cas?"

Sam shook his head.

Castiel pondered. "We'll find out in time."

Dean held up his drink. "It's always about time. Time for this, no time for that." He paused. "Anyways, what do you think those two are up to? The kid was a police android and Hank was a lieutenant. Think they're still solving cases?"

"Well, it wasn't their first time on a case, I can tell that," Sam pointed out. "Which means it would've been regular for them. I think they're used to it."

Castiel nodded. "No new cases have come up since we've been with them."

"But was no one else surprised that plastic came back?" Dean looked at all of them. "I thought he _died_. Gone forever."

Sam dug out a book from his backpack and it looked exactly like the ones from 2038: gadget looking.

"I stole this from the hotel we stayed at. Gave news on what was happening then as well as some articles." He swiped it open. "Says here that androids come in different models. The number that follows their two letters can determine how advanced they are."

"When we walked around the city, some had ones like 200 and 300," Dean pointed out.

Castiel nodded. "And Connor was an RK800."

"So Connor was a more advanced model," Sam finished. He continued to swipe to an article. "Says here that a new android was being used to help aid in deviancy police cases. States the model was a specific RK800 which we know ourselves is Connor."

"And we're just now figuring this out three months later?" Dean asked.

Sam looked at him. "But get this; Connor was just a prototype. That means he was the first of his model and likely not the last."

"Humans are so fascinated with technology," Castiel said.

"Androids are one thing," Dean pointed out, "but I was more focused on the self driving taxis. I mean, c'mon!"

Sam chuckled. "And these new books as well as the computers. It's all so advanced, and this is only in so many years."

"Androids become a great help to people in the future," Castiel told them. "All are programmed to suit different tasks; like how Connor is a police android. Some cooked, some were maintenance."

"Hell, we should just go back and visit them again. See how they're doing," Dean said.

Sam scoffed. "You're the one that was reluctant to go in the first place, Dean."

Castiel shook his head. "And we can't go too often. Messing with time is not good. It can only be done when it's troubling. To go 'see how they're doing' is not of importance."

"Maybe they'll get another monster case?" Sam shrugged as he closed his laptop. "Maybe then we'll have to go back."

Castiel still shook his head sadly. "Monster cases in the future will happen, but a random one will not mess things up. Like last time, it has to be big."

Sam sighed and everyone fell silent for a few seconds. Sam stood up and fixed his sleeve. "I'm going to take a shower and get cleaned up."

-

The familiar 'clunk' of glass hitting wood was familiar to Hank. He grasped a pen in his hand, drew it over to write a signature, before setting the pen down and folding the paper. He stood, slipped it into his coat pocket, and grabbed his mug.

Sipping his now coffee instead of alcohol, Hank left his home and made his way to the DPD. His sleep schedule was now greatly improving thanks to Connor's advice of switching to coffee rather than liquor in the mornings.

Hank still gets his share of alcohol every once in awhile, but in little moderation. He drank his needed amount of water and ate healthier meals. To say Hank's health was improving was an understatement.

"Fuck me," Hank grumbled as he made his way to his car. He didn't mind his job but it was too early in the morning for him. He usually walked in at his own time, but with Connor's advice of better sleep, he went to bed early and woke early.

The android seemed to watch out for him more than Hank should watch out for himself. Hank would think of ways to repay Connor, but what could he do? Recommend eating and sleeping tips? Tell him to switch to coffee too?

Connor doesn't even eat or sleep so that was all out of the question. Other officers have given Hank a new mug, but that still didn't work.

Hank could very well just knit Connor a little sweater.

But since he's a police android, he has to follow a certain dress code.

-

Connor himself stood and waited for Hank to arrive. Hoping his partner followed his sleep schedule for the whopping third day in a row, he'd be here soon.

He was dressed in his usual RK800 suit. Blue hold on his right arm with his model written on the front. 'ANDROID' was engraved on his upper back. White colored shirt underneath with the addition of his normal tie.

The other officers were curious about Connor's taking of Hank's well-being and question. Connor would tell them the same answer every time.

"A healthy partner leads to a successful investigation."

They'd say that was cheesey as hell. Connor would only frown, not knowing what cheese had to do with what he said.

Nonetheless, Hank walked in through the front door and set down his mug of coffee on his desk.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," Connor told him as he sat down in the desk across from Hank.

Hank scoffed. "Please, Connor, call me Hank. I get enough 'Lieutenant' from Fowler ever since we solved that last case."

A very small smile displayed itself on Connor's lips. "Okay, Lieutenant."

"I said-" But Hank sighed and knew it wasn't worth it.

"LIEUTENANT!"

Hank turned to Connor. "Told you the headass calls me it all the time."

Hank stood and followed the voice which unbelievably led to Fowler's office. Hank walked in, clearly not having it, and crossed his arms.

Fowler sat at his desk and closed a tab from his computer. He grabbed his thermos and sipped his coffee, too. Fowler raised an eyebrow.

"You're here on time."

Hank rolled his eyes. "Damn android keeps me on track. Monitors my hours of sleep." He looked at Fowler. "Wasn't he designed for police investigations and not babying me?"

Fowler did a light shrug. "Maybe if you didn't need babysitting.."

"Shut the hell up," Hank grumbled. "What'd you want me for anyways?"

Fowler looked at him. "You're off today until we call you in. Which, in fact, hasn't happened in several days. So go home."

Hank stared. "You're telling me I got an 'off day'?" he asked. "Am I still getting paid?"

"Yes."

"Well, shit!" Hank marveled. He scoffed. "I'm getting my ass out of here then."

Fowler started to say something else, but Hank had already closed the door and left. He walked back to his desk. He was a little pissed that he couldn't have slept in today but he didn't mind it completely. Maybe he could get something done today.

"Hank?" Connor asked, cocking his head to the side lightly. "You look.. amused."

Hank grabbed his coffee and gestured his hand out around him. "I get a day off from this shithole."

"You mean.. you don't have to do anything today?"

"Nope."

Connor looked back at the desk. Hank now just took in that they only gave him the day off and not Connor.

"Maybe you're-"

"CONNOR!"

Hank sighed. "Damn. Maybe it won't take long. What do androids even do on their day offs?"

Connor's LED flashed yellow as he thought. "According to several sources, humans will sleep, go out, read, and overall just relax on their day off. Androids are kept all around for other work options."

Hank stared, not expecting Connor to actually search for an answer, but he also should've known since it was, well, Connor.

"CONNOR!" Fowler yelled louder.

Connor stood. "I will see you later, Hank."

Hank gave a small wave. "Have fun, kid."

-

Hours passed as Hank returned to his home with Sumo. He wondered what Connor's take or job would've been but he couldn't resist coming here and watching some TV with no worries.

Connor getting his own job wasn't anything new anymore. Usually, when something came up, both Hank and Connor were assigned to the task. Seeing as Connor was an android was more advanced for this specialty, they sometimes just required Connor.

And he would go in, diagnose corpses, other police android stuff.

Before Hank knew it, he woke up to it being dark outside. Seeing as he just doesn't wake up randomly, Hank took into account his phone buzzing right next to him. He picked it up.

"What?"

Fowler answered. "Lieutenant; it's Fowler. The RK800 wanted me to tell you he's staying at the police station tonight."

"...Okay? And his name is Connor," Hank grumbled.

Fowler sighed. "Well Connor just wanted me to tell you. Didn't give an explanation."

"Well I'm going the hell back to sleep," Hank told Fowler before abruptly ending the call. So Hank closed his eyes.

Some time passed, that is, until a gunshot was heard and a bullet made it's way into his arm.


	2. Hospitalized

_**one hour before** _

Turns out, all Fowler had wanted from Connor was to review some paperwork and check for any spelling and grammar errors. Connor almost obliged, thinking of how just doing paperwork wasn't in his programming, but went through with it anyways.

And when he was done, he returned the paperwork and told Fowler to call Hank. Fowler went through and Connor walked away, knowing Hank was aware of his whereabouts.

So Connor decided to shut down and wait until morning; he would then repeat the same schedule again.

Until at least he was awoken with a new deviant case. Connor frowned: case. Not homicide.

His LED flickered yellow as he processed the details: time of the incident, android involvement, and also.. the _address_. Connor started to walk quickly.

It was Hank's address.

-

"Agh, fucking _hell_!" Hank yelled to no one in particular. His house was still dark but the light of the TV gave him some sight. There had been a soft blue hue. An android, he could remember seeing. But besides that, all he could remember was the sound and the shot of pain.

Hank used the TV light and tried to stand. Instantly, his arm caught fire with pain and he fell back to the couch. Hank looked quickly and saw exactly what he didn't want.

He'd been shot.

"Fucking-A," Hank grumbled. He'd lost a lot of blood and he'd lose more if he didn't get help soon and fast.

Being as his right arm was injured, Hank leaned with his left arm and grabbed his phone loosely. He brought it to himself to clumsily drop it.

Hank had to keep himself from yelling in pain. He moved his right arm a tad before bending down just enough to grab the phone. It was just his luck that he was left handed and not right.

He dialed the number. "Yeah, yeah, it's Hank Anderson. Deviant... I need.. a fuckin'... ambulance stat," he managed to finish. Stressing himself was only causing him to lose more blood.

"Lieutenant? Lieutenant!" the voice called, but the phone fell from Hank's hand and onto the floor, the calls of the officer fading out.

-

Connor received the case and was immediately on his feet. He took the quickest taxi to Hank's house and stepped out, the warm July air meeting him.

Seeing it was just minutes after the call had been made, only the ambulance was here. Connor knew more police cars and officers would show soon.

Connor opened the door and stepped inside, meeting two EMTs right by Hank's likely couch.

"Hank? Hank!" Connor walked over briskly and looked at him. He decided to do a quick examination.

Victim read as Hank Anderson; Connor already knew that. Slight heart arrhythmia. Gunshot wound in right arm. P90 bullet, 200 meter effective range, 26.4 cm/10.4 in. in length, fires at 900 RPM.

Dry but still slightly wet blood on arm, couch, and floor.

"He's unconscious," one EMT reported to Connor. Another android. "He's lost a lot of blood. We're taking him to the emergency room now."

Connor finished examining Hank and stood taller. "I'm coming with-"

"No," the other EMT told him. She was a human. "This is not your job, Connor. Let us take it from here. You do what you do best and find out what happened."

Connor tried to respond, but the two had already applied a tourniquet and lifted Hank to set him on a stretcher. He still remained unconscious.

They carried Hank out just as two more police cars pulled up. Connor frowned slightly as he was given his new mission.

**_FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO HANK._ **

-

"All signs of a vengeful spirit," Sam finished, scrolling through the last few documents.

Dean nodded. "How far away?"

"Ames, Iowa. About five hours drive."

"Who's the spirit?"

"Marlin Yates, I think."

Dean ate his puny bowl of cereal. Cheerios and 2% milk. "Come back from a vamp job and wake up to another. Monsters must be high, recently."

Sam sighed. "Pauline is out near Iowa. I could ring her."

Castiel then walked into the main bunker area, dressed in his usual trench coat. He looked at the two grimly.

"I have to go somewhere," he told them. "I'll be back soon."

Sam started to say something, but Cas was gone quick. He looked at Dean with wide eyes.

"Wonder what that was about?" Dean mumbled.

Sam shrugged. "It is Cas."

"You said Pauline was up there in Iowa?"

"Still should be."

Dean leaned back in his chair. "How bad's the spirit?"

"He's killed one," Sam read off again. "Very little to go off of but it ties in."

"Like how we thought we were dealing with shifters yesterday?"

"That was my fault."

"No kidding."

Sam scoffed. "It was an accident."

"Ah, yes, because shifters and vampires are very different," Dean laughed.

"Would you like to research cases sometime?"

"Nah, you're great at it."

And with that, Sam gave a soft nod and went back to his laptop. Dean stood and walked a few steps away.

"Before we decide anything, we should wait for Cas to come back. Get his opinion and see if he wants to tag along," Dean prompted. He turned back to Sam. "We can leave tonight and we'll be there in the morning."

Sam then leaned back in his chair. "Sounds good to me."

-

Connor listened to the siren as the ambulance drove Hank to the nearest hospital. The RK800 began to look around.

First he checked areas of entry. Hank's door was open from when the EMTs rushed in, but the deadbolt was still in place meaning no forced entry. He then tried the windows and scanned each one, noticing all of them were locked.

Connor noticed that none had fingerprints, however, which would lead to android involvement. One clue down if they'd come in through the window.

Likely the window had been unlocked and then the android locked it from the inside.

Connor decided to start with one window and follow the track from it.

That was until he heard whining.

_A dog whining._

Connor followed the source and it led to Hank's bedroom. He wiggled the door handle but the door was locked. Stepping back, he drop-kicked the door in, breaking the bolt and damaging the hinges slightly.

"I'll order you a new door, Hank," Connor mumbled as he walked in.

In the corner lay a male St. Bernard dog. Born April, 2031. 29 inches tall and 170 lbs. Registered name: Sumo.

The dog growled at Connor and started to approach. Connor held his hand up.

"Good dog, good dog," Connor mumbled. "S-Sumo... right? Is your name Sumo?"

The dog stopped and looked at Connor before cocking his head slightly. The St. Bernard licked his lips before passing Connor out through the door and into the family room. Connor bent down and examined the room.

Why was Sumo locked in Hank's bedroom?

Then a whine of despair came from the living room. Connor ran out and noticed Sumo laying down next to the pool of Hank's blood on the floor. Sumo barked and sniffed the blood.

Connor knew Sumo could tell it was likely Hank's.

The android walked over and placed his hand lightly on Sumo's back, reassuring the canine.

"Hank is okay," Connor told Sumo. "He just got injured. He's going to be fine."

Sumo whined again, laying down and not taking his eyes off of the blood. Connor looked around and noticed a small bag of dog treats on Hank's kitchen counter.

He reached his hand in and grabbed one, taking it back to Sumo. He held it out to the St. Bernard.

Sumo smelled it before looking back down. Connor frowned but pet Sumo comfortingly again, scratching behind his one ear. He kept petting Sumo for about twenty more seconds and then offered the treat again.

This time, Sumo took it gently and ate it, dribbling some crumbs onto the floor hoping Hank wouldn't mind or Sumo would lick them up.

Connor made his way back to the bedroom. He analyzed the scratch marks left by Sumo.

If the dog had been wary of Connor, how could anyone have locked him up besides Hank?

And Hank wouldn't have locked Hank away in his _bedroom_. It was too odd.

Someone had known Sumo's name or known Sumo in general. _Was someone close to Hank involved?_

Connor felt a small wind and walked over to the window in Hank's bedroom. It was slightly open and Connor pieced it together.

There were _fingerprints_ this time.

The culprit must've crawled in through the window. Knowing Sumo would bark and wake Hank, they locked him in the bedroom.

But it couldn't have been an android. And why didn't Sumo bark then, knowing something was maybe wrong?

Maybe it was a two person job?

No other clues were left in the room for Connor to analyze. Besides the fingerprints, but there was definitely someone here, which contradicted android involvement.

Connor left Hank's bedroom to examine the kitchen. He looked around until he noticed it on the wall.

Connor read the message: _we haven't forgotten about you_ , written in blood. Connor looked closer; the writing was sloppy and it wasn't neat. There was no registered font.

Could it still be an android? Would it have known to try and throw them off, after all of this?

But what else could there be? A human just out for Hank?

Connor lined all of his evidence up: door and windows locked in the living room, Sumo also locked in the bedroom with the unlocked window still slightly open, blood sloppily written on the wall in the kitchen.

The last places he hadn't checked for anything was the bathroom and outside.

Connor walked outside, giving a professional nod to the other officers, and headed around the back. He examined the windows from the outside, noticing nothing wrong.

He headed around to where Hank's bedroom window was locked and then saw it: footprints right up to the window, but the original footprints hadn't come from the street. They'd come from behind another house.

Connor walked around and over quietly, following the original trail.

Then his smell sensors picked it up.

Hidden behind a bush, layers of skin and blood sat in a pile. Connor thought about looking away but he didn't. Why would he look away? He couldn't feel sick.

His LED flashed yellow and stayed that hue. This was just like back in April with Sam, Dean, and Castiel: the shifter. It had left piles of skin and blood from when it'd changed.

Connor looked around quickly.

_Another deviant shifter case?_

-

Dean began to pace. It was getting late.. too late. Cas had said it wouldn't be long, so what was up? Something wasn't right.

"It's almost midnight, Dean," Sam told him, glancing at his watch. He frowned. "Have you tried praying to him?"

"Twice," Dean grumbled. "He won't answer."

"I'm here now."

Sam and Dean both whipped around to find their angel friend staring at them both blankly.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean yelled, shaking his head and running his hand down his face. "You need to be louder with that or something."

Sam eyed Castiel. "Is everything alright? How did it go?"

Cas narrowed his eyes. "I was gone for two hours?" He said it as a statement, but like he was also regarding them for being very curious.

"You've been gone for, uh.." Dean faltered as he did the math, "thirteen, not two!"

"Well, I'm not sure if you'll like the news or not," Cas started, looking at the floor.

Sam looked between Dean and the angel. "What is it Cas? Did something happen?"

The bunker was quiet. Cas looked up at them both.

"Hank and Connor need our help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget about any missing assignments and to drink some water today


	3. Analyzation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is v short, i apologize, but that's also how i write. i prefer shorter but more chapters; my attention span sucks and it helps me.

Connor analyzed the skin. It was fresh, of course, being Hank was attacked precisely 31 minutes and 27 seconds ago. He looked around.

Judging from this, the android -- shifter? Connor didn't know what to call them -- they had changed, proceeded towards Hank's house and climbed in through the window.

Connor reconstructed it all in his head. The culprit, he decided to call them, knew Sumo was there.

Considering how Hank never said anything about Sumo giving a warning, the invader was one step ahead. Connor went back to the front door and continued from the bedroom.

So the culprit shifted behind the neighbors house and entered through this window. They left the room, locking Sumo inside.

Connor scanned the floor and found traces of dew and dirt. The footprints led to the bathroom.

Unbelievably, it hit Connor again; the smell was _retched_.

He started to have flashbacks to when he worked with the first shifter with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

The door was ajar, so Connor pushed it open. There, in the bathtub, was more skin and blood.

"The shifter changed outside, came inside disguised as someone, then retreated to the bathroom... to change into another person?" Connor wondered aloud.

He turned heel and left back into the living room, eyeing Sumo sadly as he lay where Hank was shot.

Why didn't the invader finish off Hank?

Connor hated thinking about it, but it turns out they had just come in and shot Hank to leave. They didn't check to see if Hank died or _anything_. One shot and gone.

The layout was like so: bathroom and bedroom were behind the couch and TV in the living room. The bullet had gone into Hank's arm from right in front of him.

Being so, the invader intruded through the bedroom, walked next door to the bathroom to change, then walked down the hallway and out to where Hank was.

But the bullet hadn't been shot from behind Hank which means the shifter walked around just to stand in front of Hank to fire.

It was almost like they _wanted_ Hank to know they were here. Something wasn't right.

"Your, uh, little android techniques picking up anything _useful_?"

Connor didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Sorry, Gavin, but this case was assigned to me. I was made unaware of other partnerships."

Gavin made his way around Connor and looked at Sumo. "Makes two of us, but Fowler called me ten minutes ago and told me I'm your substitute partner for now."

Connor's LED flashed. "I'm sorry?"

Gavin eyed him. "My bad; let me talk to you like you're five years old, dipshit. Hank injured, I new partner."

"Why?"

"Maybe because, oh I don't know," Gavin drew out, "your Lieutenant friend was _shot_?"

Connor couldn't believe it; to be stuck with a partner as insufferable and difficult like Detective Reed was.. unruly.

Gavin rolled his eyes. "You think I'm excited about this? I'd rather be stuck with your damn friend Hank over you."

Connor started to walk away, but Gavin placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him around.

"Which reminds me," Gavin mumbled, "go make me a coffee from Hank's kitchen over there."

A smile tugged at Connor's mouth. Seeing as he didn't know Gavin was his new partner, it was not in his programming. He didn't have to listen to him.

"No."

Gavin stared. " _'No?'_ No, I'm your new partner so you should listen to me. Get me a coffee."

"To listen to your orders is not in my programming. For now, Hank is still my partner, not you."

Gavin paled. "You little shit-"

"I cannot be little for I'm six feet tall," Connor informed Gavin. "According to the _Centers of Disease Control and Prevention_ , also known as the CDC, the average male height in the United States for males twenty years and older is five feet and nine inches." Connor paused. "Which, of course, you yourself are that height."

Gavin tried to say something but Connor cut him off.

"Which, referring to your statement, would make you the little shit and not me, seeing as I am taller," the RK800 android finished.

Connor expected the detective to exhibit irrational and frustrated behavior, but Gavin was expressionless.

"In your little search, you said 'males twenty years and older'," Gavin repeated. "You're like, what, a few months old? You have time to shrink."

Connor narrowed his eyes. "I am an android; I won't shri-"

"Shut up."

And with that, Gavin walked away to examine the bedroom. Connor eyed him as he walked away, but couldn't help questioning the detective's motives.

-

Dean stared wide eyed at Cas. "Wait, _what?_ "

"Hank and Connor need-"

"Yeah," Dean faltered, "yeah I know. I'm just processing it."

Sam stood from his chair. "Are they okay? Is everything alright?"

Cas shuffled. "They wouldn't tell me too much."

"'They'?" Sam repeated.

"Heaven."

Dean sighed. "Being they're not the ones traveling into the future, I don't see them being worried about it."

The group fell silent for a moment, each hunter thinking different thoughts but along the same line. Sam worried about what's happened, Dean wondered what to do, and Castiel thought about the plan.

"So," Sam spoke up, "when do we leave?"

"Hang on, hang on," Dean interrupted. "The whole we-can-only-go-if-it-is-important ordeal: how does this future stuff work? I understand going back to the past to fix things for later, but what does it do for us in the future?"

"In the year 2038," Castiel began, "you probably noticed how there were so few monster cases: the way it needs to be. Like the last time we went to their time, Hank and Connor were given the case. They didn't understand and to have the police department figure out about monsters would cause havoc."

Sam bounced his leg. "Simplified, it's just like last time; the DPD is on the case instead of some hunters."

"But Hank and Connor know, right?" Dean proposed. "They can take care of it on their own?"

The angel shook his head. "It isn't just one shifter this time. It's a lot bigger and they need our help. One android and one human won't be able to solve it."

Dean stared at Sam and Cas. "What's the problem this time?"

"They.. still wouldn't tell me, but they said it was bigger. More organized and greater numbers."

Sam closed his laptop and put it in his bag like he was already getting packed. "Are we going to the same year?"

Castiel nodded. "Exactly 20 years from right now. Today is July 9th, 2018. We'll be going to 2038."

Dean gestured with his hand. "So when do we leave?"

"You're all in this time, Dean?" Sam asked his older brother.

"What do you mean?"

Sam smirked. "Last time you were all _'can't wait to get stuck in time', 'it's the_ future _, Sam', 'how are we sure we'll get the right day or year?_ '"

Dean yawned. "I wasn't sure what was gonna happen last time! Hell we got there and Cas was unconscious when our feet hit the ground."

"It will happen again," Cas informed Dean. "I will be unconscious."

"Any chance you could 'spawn' us in a hotel maybe?" Sam asked him.

Cas shook his head. "Not if you'd like to get stuck in a wall or in the floor."

"Alley it is," Dean decided. "But when do we leave?"

"I have to head back to Heaven to try and get some final details," Castiel said. "We'll leave in the morning."

Sam and Dean both said it worked for them and then Cas was gone in an instant. Both brothers looked at each other before deciding it was almost 12:45am so it was time for bed.

For in the morning, they'd be doing some time traveling.


	4. Critical Condition

In recap, Connor planned everything out in his head. The shifter changed behind the neighbor's house, came here and entered through Hank's bedroom window while also locking Sumo in, before going across the hallway to change in the bathroom, finally leading them out into the living in front of Hank to shoot him.

Leaving lots of evidence behind.. not killing Hank.. wanting to be seen...

Connor's LED was consistently yellow now. Something really wasn't right. It was too easy.

"Your little _program_ figure out anything useful?" Gavin grumbled to Connor.

Connor raised an eyebrow. The evidence was all here; Gavin couldn't figure it out himself?

"First.." Connor started as he reconstructed and repeated it to Gavin. He'd rather Hank be hearing this but he needed someone else. However, he kept all the shifter details such as the skin out.

"You're telling me someone that likely knew Hank or Sumo crawled in through the window and shot him to _leave?_ " Gavin questioned, shaking his head. "You dysfunctional or something?"

Connor considered it being heavily confusing without all the details, but he couldn't tell Gavin. Like Sam, Dean, and Castiel had said: don't spread panic.

"Also, did you even think to include the pile of _skin_ in Hank's bathroom?" Gavin retorted, giving Connor a nasty look. "Didn't think _that_ was important enough for this investigation?"

Connor thought quickly. "I was unsure of how to in-cooperate it," he lied.

Gavin looked at him with an emotion Connor couldn't pin. He wasn't a people android, despite being equipped with his own social module, although. He was to help with investigations.

Connor made up his mind. "I'm going to visit Lieutenant Anderson."

"And leave me here?"

Connor nodded. "I have all I need to make a report to the Lieutenant."

"No, I don't think you damn do!" Gavin called to the android. "This could be someone's remains!"

Connor turned back around. "The pile was analyzed as 92.8% skin, 6.2% blood and 1% other materials. There are no traces of ligaments, tendons, overall muscle, bones, and intestines." The RK800 model walked back over to Gavin in the bathroom. "And, it's too easily placed. Whoever did this wanted us to find us. Maybe to throw us off."

Gavin eyed Connor. The detective had to admit, but androids were fairly advanced and intelligent. Superior to humans. Gavin wondered if Connor himself would ever become deviant.

Gavin scoffed. To have their own deviant helping out with police investigations. It would be something.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to visit Lieutenant Anderson."

Gavin watched as Connor left. Telling him that they wouldn't allow visitors yet wouldn't stop Connor.

Gavin flagged down another officer. "Keep this place on lockdown. We'll report back to you soon."

Connor flagged down a taxi and was surprised when Detective Reed jogged out of the house and nodded at Connor.

"I'm coming with you."

"What?" Connor asked him. Why would Gavin want to come with?

Gavin rolled his eyes as he got into the taxi. "You _plastic prick_ ; I said I'm coming with you to see Hank."

In all honesty, Gavin didn't want to be left smelling the disgusting skin and blood. He also found Connor, in a way, amusing. If anyone caught him thinking he thought androids weren't all bad, it would be the end of him.

-

"Aw hell," Hank grimaced.

He opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by the white light. He blinked several times to adjust and figure out where the hell he was.

His eyes finally adapted and he looked around. He was in the hospital? Why was he here?

"Careful, Lieutenant," a voice said to him. "You're here in the hospital. You're going to be okay."

Hank tried to find the source of the voice. "Hospital? Why the hell-?"

"You were in critical condition. You were shot in your own home five hours ago."

"Who the hell am I talking to?"

Hank's vision finally cleared and he could see them now. A model MP600 medical android looked down at him. They were dressed in a scrub with their model number and blue triangle engraved.

"I am an MP600 medical android," they told Hank. "I am here to assist you in medical occurrences, needs, and wants."

"Okay... why the fuck am I in this hospital?"

The android nodded. "You were shot in your own home five hours ago. You also lost a lot of blood. You're here now to replace your needs to get you back on your investigation."

"Wait," Hank just now realized. "Where's Connor? Was he shot too? Where is he?"

Hank tried to look around, but his android partner was nowhere to be soon. Oh god, Connor wasn't there in his house though, right?

Hank was in his own large hospital room. Hank looked out through the door but could see very little.

Wait... it was starting to come back to him. Fowler told him he got the day off so Hank went home. Connor stayed for.. something? What was it?

Paperwork. Connor stayed for paperwork and then he told Fowler to call Hank: to tell him he was at the police station.

"Hank Anderson, it is okay. You need to stay calm. You are still very low on blood," the MP600 tried to console him. "You need to rest."

"You haven't seen an RK800 android, have you?" Hank questioned the medical android. "His name is Connor. Has he passed through?"

They shook their head. "It is not your visitor hours yet. Only medical androids are allowed to see you and immediate family."

Hank shut his eyes. He was beginning to feel light headed. One thing was for certain, though. Connor was fine.

"Who the fuck shot me then?" Hank grumbled, trying to sit up.

The medical android placed a hand on his shoulder. "You should not get up, Mr. Anderson."

"What time is it?"

"It is 6:37am," they told him.

"What happened?"

"Two EMTs rushed you in here at 12:16am," the android informed. "You were put into immediate surgery to remove the bullet. You are now in your own hospital room. You lost a lot of blood, Mr. Anderson."

Hank laid back down. "Well, shit."

He looked around. It was a good room and his bed was placed in the right back corner. The MP600 sat next to him in a chair in their scrub. On a nearby counter laid files of paperwork.

Hank looked at the android. "I need you to check on an android for me."

"A patient?"

"No, he's a detective android. The one I told you about earlier: Connor."

The android nodded. "He will not be able to visit you until 7:30am, but I will check at the front counter. I will return soon."

Hank watched as the medical android left the room, shutting the door behind them. It was quiet where he was. Hank groaned. Who the hell would've just broken into his home to shoot him?

Minutes passed and Hank almost fell asleep until the android returned. They smiled.

"Front receptionist did recall a detective and an RK800 model android requested to see you at 3:49am," the android said. "You were still in critical condition and coming out of your surgery. They could not see you. The RK800 android was also not a medical android."

"That was Connor," Hank mumbled, thinking about what other detective would've arrived with him. "What time is it now?"

"It is currently 7:16am."

"Are they still out there?"

The android shook their head. "They were ordered to return to the Detroit Police Department. The one you call Connor did want to return right at 7:30am."

"Let him in when he gets here."

"Are you sure, Mr. Anderson?" the android questioned. "You are still very weak."

"I don't give a fuck. Let him in when he gets here."

The android nodded. "And of the other detective?"

"Who was it?"

"I did not ask the front receptionist."

Hank had no idea who it could've been. He couldn't even think of anyone who would want to travel and be with Connor. Androids had an indifferent public opinion. Hank didn't know of anyone in the police force who would've been 'comfortable' with another android.

Hank didn't quite get it though. Connor pissed him off sure but he wasn't all bad. He was just.. Connor.

"Whatever," Hank decided. "Let whoever it was in too."

The MP600 went to the sink and got a cup of water for Hank. They brought it back to him and Hank took it, downing it in seconds.

"Will do," the android said before leaving the room.

-

**_three hours ago_ **

"Let us the fuck in!" Gavin yelled at the front receptionist.

The android shook her head. "You do not have authorization."

"Detective Reed," Connor warned. "We'll come back later. Hank's recovery is important right now."

Gavin cringed. "You're the one that even wanted to visit him-"

Connor looked down at Gavin. "She said that he just came out of surgery. Judging by the anesthesia they likely put Hank under, it will be some time before he is able to think clearly and practice clear interactions. Not to forget, he is also in critical condition, and neither of us are immediate family."

Gavin stepped back. He knew beforehand that they weren't going to let him and Connor in. So why the hell was he so upset?

"Dammit!" Gavin grumbled. Connor thought it was about the situation but Gavin's phone was buzzing. "What do they want?"

Mumbling came from the phone. Connor analyzed the reception to be coming from the DPD and from Fowler's phone.

"On our way," and then Gavin hung up. He began walking away. "Fowler wants us back."

Connor didn't bother asking why, so he followed.

-

**_current time - 7:29am_ **

"Dean," Sam whispered, entering his room. "Get up."

Dean stuffed his face more into his pillow. "No."

"Dean," Sam said again, shoving his brother lightly. "Get up. Cas is ready to go."

"There's pie in the kitchen."

Dean looked at Sam sleepily. "Pie...?"

"Lots."

Dean sat up some more and looked around. "We're in my bedroom."

"Yeah, and you ate the last bit of pie last night, so there isn't any more," Sam chuckled. "Cas is ready to go. We're going to help Hank and Connor, remember?"

"What time is it?"

Sam looked at his watch. "7:30."

"Why so damn early?"

"Because they're in trouble, Dean."

"Who?"

"Hank and Connor."

Just then Castiel appeared in the room. He walked over to Dean in his bed. "We have to leave now, Dean. Get up and get your things."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up," the older brother grumbled, rising out of bed.

Castiel and Sam left the room as Dean got ready. He brushed his teeth and packed a few last minute things. He had a feeling this little trip wouldn't be as short as last time.

He walked into the main bunker area bag in hand. He ruffled his hair.

Castiel looked between them. "Are you ready?"

Sam nodded and Dean held up his bag. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"It'll be just like last time." He paused. "Twenty seconds for twenty years. I've picked out a secluded alley for us to arrive at. The bright light may be alarming for someone to happen to see, but the sun is rising, so it will be fine."

Castiel grabbed Sam's left hand and Dean's right hand. "Hold on tight."

And in the said flash of yellow light, Sam and Dean felt their feet leave the ground. Last time, they zoomed past elections, fights, technological advancements.. This time, they passed wars, speeches, flashes of new movies.

Twenty seconds later, they all fell and hit the pavement. Sam and Dean adjusted, blinking rapidly as the light died down. Standing up, Sam noticed there was no one around and Castiel lay on the pavement.

Dean began lifting him up. "Passed out like last time," Dean mumbled. "Did we make it?"

Sam looked around quickly. The alley looked familiar, and then it clicked. This was the same exact alley they showed up to back in April. He could remember where the hotel was.

He looked at the same billboard. It read 68 degrees Fahrenheit before flashing to the date: July 9th, 2038.

Sam marveled. "Yeah, we made it. It's July 9th, 2038."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nb android nb android


	5. An Angel Knocks Out a Detective

"Hello. We're here to see Hank Anderson," Connor told the front receptionist.

She nodded. "Welcome back. Hank Anderson is only allowing an RK800 android and an unknown detective. Anyone else who wishes to visit him will have to wait." She slid them a pass. "Mr. Anderson is in room 219 on floor two."

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon plastic," Gavin mumbled as he walked around Connor and began to look for the elevator.

Connor looked at Gavin while they looked. "Why are you so intent on seeing Hank?"

Gavin scoffed. "Better than staying at that shitty DPD. Plus it gives me something to do."

Connor's LED was yellow. How such a spiteful detective was here with Connor, he didn't understand.

"Why are _you_ wanting to see Hank, huh?" Gavin questioned as he pressed the UP button for the elevator.

"...He is my partner?"

"That so?"

Connor nodded, his LED briefly flashing yellow.

"Hm."

"What?"

Gavin shrugged smugly. "Figured you would've been more focused on this little _investigation_ rather than Hank."

Connor stared and followed Gavin into the elevator as it dinged. "Hank is an essential part of the investigation."

"And you're sure that's it?"

"...Yes."

"You were hesitant."

Connor looked away. "What I presume and think about this case is not important."

Gavin took that as a conversation-ender and they both rode in silence as the elevator climbed slowly.

After all Hank had done for Connor, he had to give him this. Ever since Connor first met Hank, he sensed the senior detective felt lost. Alone. Connor was equipped with his own social module, but sometimes it wasn't enough. He wanted to be there for Hank. In a way, Connor felt that Hank didn't deserve that.. sense of loss.

Connor stopped himself and cringed ever so slightly. He wasn't allowed to feel anything.

"Circuit pop in your head or something?" Gavin asked as he stepped out of the elevator. "You made a face."

Connor narrowed his eyes. "No. Nothing happened."

Gavin started walking away. "Well are you coming to see Hank or what?" his voice trailed off as he moved further down the hallway. Connor walked quickly to catch up.

"Here. Room 219."

Connor walked in front. "Let me knock."

"Why you?"

"I don't assume Hank has acquired a liking to you, Gavin."

Gavin scoffed and stepped aside. Connor raised his fist and lightly knocked.

"Hank? It's me, Connor... and the other detective."

Slight shuffling was heard. "Connor? Is that you?"

Connor opened the door slowly. There, in his own hospital bed, Hank was propped up with three pillows and his arm wrapped. He had a small table next to him that had three empty cups; Connor analyzed them to have traces of H2O.

"What the fuck?" Hank said scornfully as his eyes fell upon Gavin. "What the hell is this?"

Gavin crossed his arms. "Bored."

Connor shook his head. "Detective Reed insisted on accompanying me to see you, Hank."

"The medical android told me someone besides you wanted to see me but I didn't expect _this_ shitface," Hank insulted, looking back at Connor. "Heard you tried to see me at 3am or something. What'd you do until now?"

Connor nodded. "It all started..."

-

Sam and Dean ignored the looks some people gave them as they carried their unconscious angel friend through the hotel.

Making it to their room, Sam and Dean laid Castiel on his own bed and sighed.

Both decided to give Cas sometime and just lounged around for almost an hour. Sam jumped to the computer the room came with, marveling when it greeted him with "Welcome, Sam Winchester" like last time.

"Just like three months ago," Dean laughed, sitting down in a chair. "Can't wait to ride in a self-driving taxi again."

"The magazines!" Sam said in longing as he'd previously grabbed one for himself. "They're still the same. And there's new ones."

Dean decided to move about and walked over to the minuscule kitchen in their room. He looked at the refrigerator.

"The _fridge_ is _bluetooth_?"

Sam walked over quickly to Dean. "How even-?"

"It has this blue triangle thing on it."

"Dean... that's the CyberLife symbol. Connor has it on his jacket."

Dean looked at his brother. "They don't just make androids?"

Sam left back to where the magazines were and picked a specific one up. He walked over with it in hand, holding it out to Dean. "Here."

Dean took it in his hand and swiped. He read for a few seconds. "You're telling me they make animals too? Gotta admit, that's awesome as hell."

"They're using them to recreate extinct animals for zoos," Sam said with elation.

"MmMM." Mumbling was coming from the bed behind them.

Both brothers turned around. "Cas?" they said in unison.

Their angel friend sat up slowly, his eyes squinting at everything around him.

Dean's eyes widened. "Well, damn, that was fast." He helped Cas up. "You good?"

Cas looked around. "Did we.. make it?"

"Judging by the electronic magazines Sam's weirdly obsessed with," Dean started, earning a look from his younger brother, "I'd say we're here."

Sam shook his head. "How are you up so.. quickly? It's only been about 50 minutes," he said as he looked at his watch which now looked flimsy compared to the 2038 ones.

Cas paused for several seconds before answering. "It was easier this time."

"Will it still be a few days before we're able to go back?" Dean asked him.

Castiel thought. "...Yes."

"Granted this is a bigger case like Cas said," Sam pointed out, "we'll need those few days. Are you able to stand?"

"Cas just helped us travel twenty years and only slept for sometime. He won't be able to-"

But the angel stood anyways. Wobbly, but he still stood before looking at them. "I think I'm fine."

Dean shrugged lightly. "Nevermind."

"I saved our old FBI badges," Sam told them. "I say we head to the DPD and find Hank and Connor."

Dean looked at Castiel. "You up for it?"

Castiel nodded and the group changed into their suits to fit their fake FBI attire. Sam handed out the badges and they left the motel.

-

Hank was appalled. "This was all at my damn _house?_ "

"Except, like before," Gavin interrupted. "Plastic here forgot about the literal pile of skin and blood left in your bathroom."

Hank immediately turned to Connor and they met eyes. The android's LED flashed yellow with a hint of red to confirm what Hank was thinking. Hank was glad Connor could pick that up his own and relieve Hank of asking "Possible shifter?" in front of Gavin.

The shithead wouldn't be able to keep it quiet.

Hank looked at Gavin, acting surprised. " _Skin and blood?_ "

Gavin narrowed his eyes. "Need me to repeat it for you?"

"You seriously walked around with him for several hours?" Hank questioned, turning to eye Connor.

"Yes."

Hank held up a hand in a gesture. "Well then. I say we get a move on and figure out-"

All of them were stopped when the room door opened and an MP600 android walked in, acknowledging them all.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Anderson, but that would not be wise," the android coaxed, adjusting their stethoscope. "And because of your condition, you will not be granted leave until noon."

"Fuck me, _noon?_ " the lieutenant repeated. "Why?"

"Hospital protocol."

Gavin rolled his eyes. "You were shot about eight hours ago."

"That doesn't mean anyth-"

Connor held up his hands. "It's okay, Hank. Rest up for four more hours and we'll be here to pick you up."

Hank grimaced. "I don't want to just sit here and not figure out why some fucker broke into my own damn home and shot me!"

Connor gave the senior detective a peculiar look and Gavin watched. Hank seemed to understand what Connor was getting at and settled.

Gavin sensed there was something they weren't telling him. Whether it was about the investigation or something else, Gavin knew something was up. But how would Connor know to 'slide' him something like that?

The android nodded and began to leave; Gavin turning heel and heading out to follow. The last thing Gavin managed to see was the medical android filling up Hank's cup of water.

"Wanna tell me what that was about back there?" Gavin elbowed Connor when they were out of earshot.

Connor guessed what Gavin was getting at so he acted unbothered and curious. "What?"

"You gave Hank a look," Gavin said. "And he understood it, too. There's something you're not telling me."

Connor shook his head. "I am designed to report everything I find and conduct during an investigation." He looked at Gavin. "If there were something I didn't tell you, I might as well be a deviant."

"Then what was that about back there?"

"I don't understand what you're getting at."

"You know damn well-"

Connor held up a hand and interrupted him. "Let's head back to the department."

Gavin didn't even notice he was stepping out of the elevator and now walking to the main doors. Connor pissed him off, but what else could he know? Gavin almost felt like he was giving the RK800 too much credit for being that smart.

-

"We're _walking?_ " Dean said, looking at Sam. "We get a chance to ride in a self driving taxi, one of the few things I'm actually excited for in the future, and we're gonna _walk?_ "

Sam began ahead of him. "We rode in the taxi last time. I want to take a bit to look at what's around us and see how far we've come."

"They just look like the normal buildings at home."

Cas fell into step with them. "Besides the android charging stations, CyberLife store just ahead, glowing crosswalks, and-"

"Is that.." Dean butt in, "is that a glowing crosswalk?"

Cas looked at Dean. "Yes I just said-"

"It's green. We gotta cross."

Sam followed Dean as he walked to the crosswalk and began crossing. Castiel sighed before following the two brothers and crossing.

Just as they reached the other side, the crosswalk turned red.

Sam nodded, about to say something but a voice quite familiar to him was talking nearby.

"We're heading back to see if Fowler needs us," it had said.

The other person scoffed. Sounded like a middle aged male. "Yeah, like he can't get off of his ass to do something for once."

"You remind me a bit of Hank."

Sam raised an eyebrow. Hank?

"Guys stop," he told Dean and Castiel and the two stopped walking, giving Sam a look look. "Come here and listen."

Sam ran around a corner and hid, Dean and Castiel following suit. Sam waited. The voices were getting closer.

"I remind you of _that_ piece of shit? Aren't you androids supposed to be intelligent?"

"More so than humans."

"Bold of you to assume that. You're just a piece of plastic."

The one voice stopped walking. "What is forty-seven multiplied by ninety-six?"

"I can't just-"

"The answer's 4,512," the voice finished and it finally clicked. Sam knew exactly who it was.

But the other voice didn't sound at all like Hank.

"You little shit! I can't think that fast!"

Sam peeked around the corner and saw him: Connor. He wore his RK800 android vest and was with another someone. Sam narrowed his eyes. He didn't have a clue who it was.

"What's wrong, Sam? Why are we hiding in an alley?" Cas questioned, looking between Dean and Sam. Dean shrugged.

Sam looked at them. "Tell me who the one person's voice is."

Sam looked back and the other guy looked frustrated. He crossed his arms and glared at Connor.

"That wasn't even thinking; you had that in your program," Gavin defended. "Tell me, as a leader, is it better to be feared or loved?"

Sam could see Connor's LED flicker yellow. "A unique balance is the most efficient, but coming down to the two, it is best to be more feared than loved. Too much love will lead to a vulnerable human. Their people will walk over them. Too much fear will lead to hate, and hate can lead to uprising. A good leader will rule so they are feared but also respected and do what's more efficient."

"What the hell-"

Connor began walking again towards Sam, Dean, and Castiel. Sam couldn't help but admire his android friend's perspective, but Sam also knew that Connor likely got it from Niccolo Machiavelli.

Connor finally turned the corner and the 2000s gang position was given away. He looked at them with surprise, ignoring Gavin catching up to him and following his gaze.

Gavin stared. "Not the damn FBI again-"

Castiel quickly walked forward and placed a finger on Gavin's forehead. In seconds, Gavin's ragdoll body fell to the ground and his face smacked against the pavement. Sam and Dean cringed a little. Connor stared.

"Cas, what did you do?" Dean said, looking at Gavin's limp body.

"He's not dead," Castiel said in his monotone voice. "I just knocked him out and erased that last bit of memory."

Castiel staggered on his feet and Dean helped him stay up. "You're low on power."

"Sam... Dean... Castiel," Connor mumbled, looking between the three. "You're.. you're here?"

Sam smiled. "Heard you could use a little help with a monster problem."

The hunter remembered of the ' _Think Your Android is a Deviant? How to Get Rid of it as Soon as Possible!_ ' magazine. Could there be any chance Connor's become a deviant in the last three months?

But from the magazine he read, deviants usually rebelled against CyberLife creators, and they were such rare cases. If Connor were a deviant, he likely wouldn't wear his RK800 ANDROID jacket.

But deviants had to be pretty serious for the police force to get their own android to assist in investigations.

Sam pondered. What would happen to Connor if he somehow became a deviant? One thing Sam didn't know was how deviants became, well, deviants. Were they made that way? Did something have to happen?

If they were made that way, then Connor couldn't be one anyway. Or maybe they became one after time? Deviants are androids who somehow feel emotion. Maybe some kind of.. emotional distress?

"Earth to Sam?" Dean snapped his fingers in front of Sam's face. "You good?"

Sam looked around and noticed the three of them were watching him. Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Plastic here already thinks it's a shifter again," Dean told Sam.

"Now you, Hank, and Gavin are all alike," Connor mumbled.

Dean looked at Gavin and nudged his limp body with his foot. "Is he an asshole?"

"Yes."

Dean shrugged. "It's possible."

Sam shook his head, trying to get back on track. "Wait, Connor, you think it's a shifter?"

Connor launched into the whole investigation: all the clues, theories, and ideas he had. The hunters listened to every word, thinking themselves about the situation.

Dean and Sam looked at each other. "Silver test."

Castiel handed Dean his silver blade and Dean took it in hand. No burning.

Sam next. He held it tightly and still no burning.

Sam passed it to Connor and Connor held it tightly as well, a hint of yellow in his blue LED, remembering the last time.

-

_"But he also said that this thing can shift into android and copy their DNA. How do we know this isn't_ our _plastic?" Dean questioned._

_Hank watched Connor and noticed his LED went yellow. "I am not the shifter. I'm an android," he said._

_Dean took a step forward, the blade in hand. "Then why are you afraid to be tested? Apparently you can't feel pain."_

_"I don't want to be damaged."_

_"Is that right?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I don't believe you."_

_Hank glared at Dean. "He doesn't want to be damaged, dammit. Is there another way you can test him?"_

-

They all looked at Connor before he handed the silver blade to Castiel who sheathed it, all passing the test.

"What if the shifter shifted into Hank before entering his bedroom?" Castiel proposed.

"That would explain how his dog Sumo didn't get distressed at their appearance," Sam added on.

Connor eyed the tallest hunter. "Can shifters also copy and reciprocate smell? Canines can detect a trillionth of a gram of an explosive, can determine the time of day by smell, and have 300 million olfactory receptors."

Castiel looked at Connor. "What about humans?"

"Six million."

Sam chuckled and nodded. "Yes, shifters can also copy the person's smell."

Dean crossed his arms. "So you're saying this shifter shifted into Hank, climbed into his own bedroom, then went to the bathroom to shift into an android to shoot Hank? Who the hell has it out for him?"

"A monster, nonetheless," Sam said. "We dealt with shifters last time; maybe word got out."

"But if the message occurred to spread, why did it take three months to pursue action?" Connor asked.

"You're the one with the android tech and thinking," Dean scoffed.

Connor narrowed his eyes. "My programming doesn't cover supernatural creatures."

Sam made a mental note; if Connor were a deviant, he wouldn't talk about his programming. He'd think about it himself.

"And Hank said he saw an android?" Sam asked Connor.

"Hank confirmed that he saw someone with a blue hue. There were also no fingerprints."

Dean thought. "And they didn't even kill Hank; this just gives what we need on a plate," he mumbled sarcastically.

Connor and Castiel looked at him. "A plate?" they said in unison before looking at each other.

"It was a simile," Dean commented.

"Metaphor."

"Shut up, Sam."

Castiel looked at their android friend. "Can we visit Hank now?"

"He's not allowed to leave until 12pm," Connor said.

The group fell silent, not knowing what to do until that time.

"MmMm," Gavin blurted out from their feet. He began to stir.

Dean looked at Cas. "Can you make him pass out again?"

"I don't think I'll have enough power," Castiel told them, as he was still struggling to stand.

"He can wake up now, right?" Sam asked them. "We discussed all the supernatural business so it should be good?"

"But how the hell do we explain how he's on the ground and his face hurts because he hit the concrete?" Dean whisper-yelled.

Sam started to say something else but Connor had already swung his fist down upon Gavin's head, sending the detective into another sleep.

They all stared at Connor. The android tilted his head curiously at Gavin before looking at the others.

"He deserved it."

The hunters chuckled, except for Cas who was still struggling to stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hank and gavin have always been my favorite to write


	6. Homicide Calling

After some time, the group decided to flag down a taxi and send unconscious Gavin on his way to the DPD. They shoved him inside and Connor wrote a note.

_Detective Reed,_

_You had too many drinks so you're heading back to your home. Return to the DPD when you're socially well and sober._

_Connor._

Connor taped the note to Gavin's forehead and did a quick scan. His readings say Gavin just lived 9 minutes and 34 seconds away. He would be awake in time to step out of the taxi awake.

The taxi took off, taking Gavin with. The hunters laughed and Connor watched the vehicle turn a corner before turning back to them. The group began walking, talking along the way.

It wasn't much time before 11:50 rolled around and they began to head to the hospital for Hank. Along the way, Sam pulled Connor off to the side.

"Hey, Connor, I never got the chance to ask you this last time we were here," Sam said. "I was wanting to know more about deviants."

The RK800's LED flashed yellow. "We believe a mutation occurs in the software of some androids which can lead to them emulating a human emotion. They don't really feel the emotions; they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions which can lead to unpredictable behavior."

Sam listened. Irrational instructions... unpredictable behavior... He looked at Connor.

"So androids become deviants. How does the mutation occur?"

"A sort of behavioral shock is what the android will go through. Something will happen and the android will react to it irrationally."

"Have you ever dealt with a deviant before?"

Connor paused for a second. "A few months back. A deviant was threatening to jump off a roof with a little girl; I managed to save her."

"But not all deviants can be harmful, right? You said they go through a behavioral shock and it's like people can be.. abusive to them. What if an android were just wanting to get away?"

"...We are machines, designed to help and serve humans. What we want is.. not beneficial."

Sam frowned. He wondered if Connor hated being thrown around by the police force, doing everything they say and ask of him.

"Are there any signs of deviancy?"

Connor furrowed his eyebrows. "There's almost nothing they have in common. They're all different models, produced at different times, in different places..."

"But there has to be one link, right?"

"It could be a software problem that only occurs under certain conditions," Connor mumbled as they walked. "Or a hardware problem involving their biocomponents. We do know that deviants experienced an emotional shock.. a violent trauma or a sense of injustice."

"So deviancy can happen to any android?"

"Yes."

Sam thought for a moment. Androids really intrigued him. For this to only happen in twenty years.. the outcomes were amazing. How humans just basically created androids for themselves but they were able to think for themselves?

But like Connor said, it was a likely error in their systems.

"You two done talking or what?" Dean called back. "We're here to get Hank."

Connor and Sam followed Dean and Castiel into the hospital. They checked in at the front desk and went in the elevator.

In time, they were there to Hank's room and Hank was already to go, sitting on his bed.

"It is 12:00pm," the MP600 medical android smiled. "You may leave now if you wish, Hank Anderson. Remember to take things very easy and do not strain your right arm. It was a good wound so it will take time. Drink plenty of water and keep up on your nutrition."

"Fuck, now you're starting to sound like Connor," Hank grimaced as he stood. He stumbled slightly but caught himself.

The android helped Hank straighten up. "Are you okay, Mr. Anderson?"

Hank waved them off. "I've stumbled worse when I'm drunk, thank you."

Few minutes passed and the group of five stood together just outside the hospital with Hank occasionally swearing at his injured arm.

"What now?" Castiel asked them all.

"I would bother to invite you guys to my place for a bit but it's a shitty crime investigation at the moment," Hank grumbled, standing straighter.

Connor looked at the ground. "We know so little about this case." He then looked at Hank. "The best thing we can ask right now is who would commit a crime against you?"

"Nonetheless a shifter," Dean added.

Hank shrugged. "Not too many are fond of me, Connor. I'm not loved by everyone."

"But the writing on the wall Connor talked about," Sam brought up. " _'We haven't gotten_ _about you'_. A shifter writing that: it sounds too close to last time."

"Monsters will be rare here in Detroit," Castiel told them. "But they're still here."

Dean nodded. "Word had to have gotten out."

Connor looked around. "But the covering up of the scene was careless. This shifter is either a novice or wanted us to pursue them efficiently."

"And they sure as shit didn't bother finishing me off, either," Hank muttered.

"Is there anything we can go off of?" Dean asked them all.

"The best ways are the skin, silver, and retinal flare," Sam informed. "Since the shifter supposedly shifted to an android, they could be anything by now. Retinal flare is only detected by a camera, but we have nowhere to look." Sam glanced at Hank. "Which, Hank, we need you to do the silver test."

Castiel passed Hank his silver blade and Hank held on tightly with his left hand. Nothing happened. He passed it back to Castiel.

Just then, Dean noticed Connor began blinking rapidly as his LED flickered yellow. "You good, plastic?"

Connor paused. "...I was just given a new homicide case." He met eyes with all of them. "Three androids and three humans were set aflame just in the forest outside of Detroit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is insanely short because i had started writing it and then died for three months


	7. Asphyxiation

"It happened at 4:25am this morning," Connor said. "Six bodies were found."

"Fuckin-A," Hank complained. "This shit doesn't get any easier."

Sam looked at Connor. "You said six bodies? Set aflame?"

"Correct," Connor acknowledged.

Hank scoffed. "Why did you get notified for it so late?"

Dean started waving his hand to flag down a taxi. Sam scoffed, noticing he was having too much fun with it as the small car pulled over to the side of the road and opened its doors.

Dean turned back to them. "Doesn't matter. Let's get a move on."

-

It took twenty minutes for them to get to the outside of Detroit to the forest. The taxi pulled them up to the edge and opened its doors, letting them out.

They walked until the red and blue lights found them first. They created silhouettes through the trees and led them to their location. They then saw the police cruisers and officers.

The bright noon sun kept them warm and at work. Connor left off first to analyze the bodies, Hank went to survey the outer area, and Castiel, Sam, and Dean left to talk to the officers.

Castiel first noticed how odd the crime scene felt. Connor hadn't told them much; he hadn't really told them anything besides the fact that it had happened very early this morning. The numbers were.. different. Three androids, three humans. Castiel knew little about what the world was like today, but he knew that things were touchy between humans and androids.

What could have happened for the six of them to be _burned?_

Sam and Dean flipped out their FBI badges to an officer. Castiel quickly grabbed his.

"FBI?" they asked, eyeing the three. "Mm. Fowler said you guys were back on the case. Good luck with this one, though. Maybe you'll find something here that we missed, 'cause we got nowhere."

"What do you know?" Sam asked them.

They nodded. "Report from a witness says she smelt some smoke just as she woke up this morning. Came out here to see what was going on and she walked upon it."

Dean looked behind him. The area around them was peculiar. It was on the outskirts of Detroit, just on the west. The neighborhood wasn't too far away from where they were. With enough walking, the witness definitely could've seen what was happening.

So for someone to have such a hatred for three machines and three people, they were clumsy enough to set fire to them right outside of the neighborhood. One wrong mishap and someone could've seen them. What was their plan?

Or was this a setup?

"Who were the victims?" Sam asked the officer. They looked at their paper.

"Considering they weren't burned to hell, the android models were an AC700, KR200, and a WB200. A sports, home assistance, and an outdoor work android, we found out. From what we guessed, they were taken from this nearby neighborhood. As for the people," their voice fell quieter, "it's hard to tell."

Castiel backed up and left to find Connor.

The RK800 wasn't far. He was in a deeper ditch, standing over the six corpses at the bottom of it. Castiel noticed the light on the side of his head was yellow.

"Anything?" Castiel asked.

Connor's light stayed yellow. "Three androids, three humans. Models were KR200, WB200, and AC700. The androids shutdown because of the flames, but the humans died from asphyxiation."

"Asphyxiation?"

Connor looked at the angel. "The state or process of being deprived of oxygen which can result in unconsciousness or death. Suffocation."

Castiel watched carefully as Connor knelt over the androids. He looked them over slowly and Castiel waited.

"Small dents on their sides and arms, but no nearby weapon. Likely chance they were hit several times by some sort of object. One with a hard end. Likely iron or some type of metal."

"Can you tell who the people are?" Castiel questioned, walking near the dead humans.

Connor shook his head. "The burns corroded their face. My diagnosis cannot pick up who they were."

A voice intervened. "So the androids died from the fire and the people from suffocating?"

Castiel and Connor wheeled around to see Hank limping up to them. "Can you tell how they suffocated, Connor?"

Connor paused. "...Difficult to tell. I cannot pick up any strangulation marks, but small traces of embers on their mouths. Charred lungs. They died from smoke inhalation."

Hank narrowed his eyes. "You're telling me they died from the smoke before dying from the fire?"

"Correct."

Castiel looked between them. "What if it was some sort of.. setup? All six of them brought here, the androids were killed first by the flames, and then the people died from the smoke?"

"Then how did they burn to a crisp?" Hank grumbled.

Connor stared at the corpses. "Someone killed all six of them. A sort of game, and the dents from the androids are new; someone hit them on the way over here before gathering all six of them in this ditch. The androids were set aflame, and then the humans died two minutes and 12 seconds later. Then they burned about a minute afterwards."

Castiel watched Connor and marveled on how he could receive all that.

"So what's the motive?" Hank asked no one in particular. "Beat the shit out of some androids and then burn some people after they've already _suffocated-?_ "

"Maybe it's like last time," Castiel interjected. He looked at Hank. "The last time we were here, some had a party. Humans and androids, in favor of each other."

Connor tilted his head to the side and blinked. "But the anomaly you had called it, the shifter, wanted to cause a catastrophe. To get our attention."

"Holy shit," Hank breathed. He crossed his arms and looked at Castiel. "You think this is just like last time."

Castiel nodded. "And the android shooting you."

Hank grimaced like he didn't need reminding.

"It's trying to attract us like last time," Connor mumbled. "It's leading us along. A path." He started to walk away. "But from what?"

Hank barely limped as he followed Connor. "Already skimmed the outer perimeter; nothing out of sorts."

Connor crouched. "Except for these."

Hank and Castiel got lower to see. In the mud just outside of the ditch were animal prints.

Dog prints, just freshly pressed into the mud.

"The hell?" Hank scoffed.

Connors smell receptor already picked something up, but he wanted to test anyway. He started to reach his hand down and stuck his finger in the liquid of the dog print. He raised it to his mouth.

"Hey, hey, hey! _Argh_ Connor, you're so _disgusting_ ," Hank chided. He looked away.

Castiel watched as Connor brought the liquid to his mouth. The android paused for a second before lowering his hand.

"Gasoline."

"It was used to-" Castiel started.

Hank finished. "Light the androids on fire."

Connor stood. "The gasoline is in the animal print which means the prints were here previously before." He began to walk to a nearby officer, one that Sam and Dean likely hadn't spoken to.

"Excuse me, does anyone in the nearby neighborhood have any canines?" he asked.

The officer thought for a moment. She nodded her head. "It's likely," she said. "The neighborhood isn't a dog-restricting one."

Connor's LED flashed yellow.

He walked back over and was met with Hank raising his hands. "Alright, so shit. Say this thing is coming after us again. The shifter, right? There's not just one monster you guys hunt. Can anything be a dog?"

"...Hellhounds."

" _Hellhounds?_ "

Connor shook his head. "Hellhounds are a supernatural creature. They're not-"

Hank threw his head back. "Oh for fucks sake, Connor, we were dealing with a _shapeshifter_ last time, remember?"

Connor's eyes widened. "Oh."

Castiel continued. "Hellhounds are from hell," he explained. "They serve demons and their jobs are to retrieve those who deals have come to an end."

"Deals?" Hank asked.

The angel nodded. "Agreements. Sell your soul to live richly for the next ten years. Sell your soul to bring someone back."

Just then, Sam and Dean had walked over to join them, Dean giving an eye to Castiel about the last bit. Sam cleared his throat.

"Officers don't know much themselves either. All they could find out were the android models and a story from a witness," he told them. "She came out this morning smelling the smoke and stumbled upon them."

He nodded at Hank. "You find anything?"

Hank shrugged. "Best let your angel friend explain. I usually don't know what the fuck is happening."

Castiel's mouth hinted at a smile. "Connor found that the humans died from smoke inhalation and the androids died from the fire. We think that whatever killed them used.. gasoline to light the androids and then waited for the humans to die before burning them."

Sam pursed his lips together. "Were you able to figure out who the people were, Connor?"

The RK800 shook his head.

Hank stepped forward. "But what if this shit is like last time?" he asked. "Last time the shifter or whatever tried to get our attention at one point. Could it be doing the same?"

"Except we don't know if it's a shifter," Dean intercepted. "You were shot by what you think is an android, right? Who's to say an android doesn't want you dead?"

Hank didn't argue.

Castiel shook his head. "No. We had to return here, remember? Something is here that they need us for. Something is required of us."

"Canine paw prints, pitbull, were found just outside the ditch," Connor added. "The proximity and depth to which they were made makes them contemporary."

"English, plastic," Dean said.

Sam stepped forward. "He means that the dog prints are fresh. Their proximity, which means where they were found, is close to the ditch."

"Of course you'd understand what he said."

Sam scoffed but Dean then sighed and looked at the ground. "But he said 'pitbull'?"

Hank stared at them with a look.

"Hellhounds," Castiel mumbled to the lieutenant.

"Fuckin-A."

Sam huffed. "But why would hellhounds be here? Did one of the people make a deal?"

Dean shook his head. "No real way to tell, but we can start off on something: someone is trying to get our attention."

"They did so successfully," Connor added.

"Killing three humans and three androids to do it," Castiel grumbled.

The group fell silent for a second, not knowing what to do next. They had everything here, and something was trying to get their attention, but who? What for?

Connor's LED had been a constant yellow. "But for trying to access our attention, they left no clues as to lead us to anything."

"Almost like they know we can't do anything," Hank mumbled.

Sam pursed his lips. "Cas had to bring us here to this time again, so something is here. We just need to find it."

"We've done all we can for now," Dean said. "We'll need it to leave something for us."

"Shit, six corpses isn't _enough?_ " Hank asked.

Castiel stepped towards the hunter. "Waiting around for more people to die is not what we should do-"

"Then what do you say, Cas? What do you think we should do? If Connor here has analyzed every possible thing then there's nothing else for us. The damn thing has our attention, almost killing one of us in the process, so we have to wait. We can't hunt for it, not knowing what the hell it is, and we can't look for any more clues. It has to make the next move."

The group was silent.

"...Lunch?" Hank asked.

The five of them made their way to the car.


	8. Chicken Feed

Hank tells Dean about the Chicken Feed and how it has "the best damn burger you'll ever taste".

Dean doesn't need convincing.

The taxi takes them there and drops them off, all five piling out. Hank leads them over and shows them the menu before placing his order and paying. He steps out of the way for the others to look.

Connor and Castiel stand off to the side with Hank.

Soon enough, the three had something to eat in their hands and they walked over to a small standing table. Hank opened up his burger and began to eat, Dean mimicking his exact movements. Sam got himself a tea.

"Oh, now _this_ is a good burger," Dean laughs as he takes another bite. "If food is getting this good in twenty years, I say let it happen."

Sam smirked. "It's called Chicken Feed."

"And _Chicken Feed_ makes damn good burgers," Dean says before taking another bite.

Castiel looks around them and noticed how few people there are. The area was more alive earlier, but now quite a few people had gone. He looks at Connor.

Connor meets his eyes and Castiel looks around. Connor looks around too and must've noticed the few people because his light flashes yellow for a second.

Castiel mumbles to Connor. "Something doesn't feel right."

Connor makes a face, and then Castiel remembers he can't exactly feel, but Connor speaks anyways. "83% of people that were here before have left. Only one has been new."

"You said only one person has returned?"

"No, they're new. And it's not someone, but some _thing_."

Castiel looks at him. "How can you tell?"

"Dialysis scan of the area. It reads that there's one new entity of unknown origin," Connor explains before staring at the ground. "I can't get any information on it."

"Entity-"

In a second, Hank sets down his almost finished hamburger. Castiel and Connor watch him with surprise as his eyes gloss over. His arms fall and his face contorts into fear and worry.

"Cole?"

Castiel and Connor follow his eyesight, but nothing is there besides an ally. Nothing is around them but empty space now.

Sam had set down his tea and Dean had set down his burger. They all followed Hank's eyesight and looked down the alleyway longingly.

Connor scans the area. "That's the entity."

"Something is calling them. We've had this happen before."

Connor looks at Castiel.

"One of the horsemen of the apocalypse. It showed what they truly desired, but it's not affect me, or my vessel. Jimmy... He wanted burgers himself last time."

Connor scanned the three of them which just stood there. Hank's eyes glistened as Sam's face showed fear and Dean's longing.

"Their heart rate has increased. The chemical serotonin has heavily influenced their activity," Connor mumbled. "They're.. seeing things they really want."

"Sam, Dean," Castiel started. "What is going on?"

"Not now, Cas," Sam stated and "Be quiet," came from Dean.

Connor walked to Hank. "Lieutenant? Lieutenant Anderson? Are you-"

"It's.. it's him," Hank mumbled quietly, his eyes not leaving the sight down the alleyway. "It happened so long ago, but he's here. He's here."

Connor stepped in front of Hank but the cop pushed him out of the way. "There's no one there, Lieutenant. There's no one-"

Hank stepped past him and Sam and Dean did the same to Castiel.

Castiel looked at Connor. "We have to stop them."

"It would be no use to shut out their hearing," Connor added, eyeing Hank. "They won't comply."

"We have to do something."

The three now slowly walked together, mumbling words to themselves. Their eyes were still glossed over, all their faces showing a different emotion.

They began to pick up speed and Castiel looked at Connor quickly. "We have to knock them out."

Connor took no time as he slammed his fist into Sam's head, knocking the hunter to the ground.

Castiel walks to Hank and slaps him. "Hank," he grumbles before slapping him again. Hank doesn't give any hint to Castiel and keeps walking. Castiel then punches Hank and catches him to set him down slowly, not injuring his previous wound anymore.

Dean was jogging now and was almost to the alley. Castiel and Connor caught up before they both tackled him to the ground.

Dean yelled at them furiously to leave him alone. He swung swears at them as Castiel pinned his arms down and Connor delivered the final blow, knocking Dean cold.

Connor looks at Cas. "We have to move them."

Together, they picked each person up and carried them away from the alley, setting them down on a bench to look like they were sleeping instead of knocked out cold.

As Castiel heads back to carry Dean, he sees it in the corner of his eye. It's there in the shadows of the alleyway and twitches at Castiel. It's mouth moved quietly, trying to sing its song to the angel.

Connor confirms it for him. "The entity. It has an energy level similar to yours, but not. It's making a sort of noise. I can't explain it."

"But it can't be affecting you?"

"You said previously it only affects those who want or desire something. I cannot want anything."

Castiel walks slowly, acting as if he can hear its song. Connor adapts quickly and acts along, creating his own fluid and smooth walk to imitate the previous three.

Castiel thinks about Jimmy. He doesn't feel anything which explains why it can't affect him. But why can't he hear it and Connor can? Is it because he's a machine, designed to pick up specific sounds to help him attest to a case?

"You are more knowledgeable in this area of expertise," Connor mumbles. "You must chase it."

"You'll move Dean away?"

Connor nods slowly. "Yes, but my readings say you have a 65% chance of capturing it. We need it alive."

Castiel nods slowly before taking a quick step. He advances on the entity, causing its mouth to stop moving and for it to take a step back. It quickly realizes what's going on and begins to run.

Castiel follows at a full sprint through the alleyway. The entity looks back at him, opening and closing its mouth repeatedly, but no sound.

Its grotesque form hobbles as it runs and turns corners, moving past dumpsters and stepping over trash.

65% of capturing it, Connor had said. More than half. Castiel had to do this.

The entity kept towards the walls, using the shadows from the overhead stairways to shelter it. It ran quickly, but Castiel was gaining.

With surprising agility, it jumps onto the wall and holds on. Castiel stops underneath of it and waits for it to do something. It opens its mouth and its body shakes; Castiel guesses it to be a sort of shriek or roar.

It then pounces on him, taking the angel to the ground. Castiel tries to fumble for his angel blade but the thing scrapes at him, its grimacing form shaking with presumingly anger.

Castiel moves himself to the left and it gives him enough room to raise his knee. He jabs it against the thing, freeing him even more room to bring his arm back and slam it against it. It scuttles off to the right of him and Castiel quickly stands. It also stands, attempting to slash at Castiel before taking off running again.

Castiel advances once again and this time gets his angel blade. He holds it out in front of him and the thing notices when it looks back, roaring in quiet fury.

They continue down a too long alley and Castiel gains distance.

Less distance.

Ten feet.

Five feet.

Three feet.

And Castiel jumps forward to impale the monster, but something knocked him on the head. He heard it shatter and his vision dim greatly.

He stopped abruptly and fell to the ground, skidding across the pavement and feeling the concrete scrape his skin. His head felt warm and wet and all he heard was the fading steps of the monster. Soon darkness overcame him and he set his head down on the ground, feeling his breathing slow.

-

"C..."

"...iel."

"Cas... l..."

"Cas...tiel..."

"...stiel."

"Castiel!"

The angel felt a slap to his face shortly after that and he sat up quickly, feeling the sharp pain in his skull. His head throbbed painfully, making his vision white and red. He opened his eyes to see Connor's staring back at him in curiosity.

"The others," Castiel grumbled, "where are they?"

Castiel grabbed his head while Connor spoke. "Conscious back at the Chicken Feed. They sent me to find you since I am immune."

Castiel starts to stand and feels Connor grab his arm to help him. The angel's vision cleared and he could now see the alleyway. His head felt hot.

"Watch your step," Connor tells them and Castiel looks down. Glass shards littered the ground and it clicked to Castiel. The pain in his head and those had not been there.

Someone had stopped him from pursuing the monster.

Castiel tried to look at Connor. "How did you find me?"

"I was an android designed specifically for investigations," Connor explained as he walked Castiel to the others. "I'm equipped with an advanced program that helps me track-"

"You said the others are okay, right?" Castiel interrupts.

Connor pauses after being intervened. "Yes. I told them what happened and they discussed. I left to find you since it had been 21 minutes to which you hadn't returned."

"The glass," Castiel mumbles. "Something was dropped on my head."

Connor nods and they're almost out of the alleyway. "Something of lighter weight, about eight pounds, was dropped on your head from about a thirty foot height. It created a tear in your head, causing you to bleed. The pain from it caused you to blackout."

They're out of the alleyway now and the two hunters and lieutenant lift their eyes to see them. From existing looks of discussion and uncertainty were now replaced with looks of worry.

The three ran over and Connor kept holding Castiel.

"Cas?" Dean started. He dipped his head ever so slightly to meet Cas' eyes being they were about the same height. "Cas, can you hear me? Cas, buddy, say something-"

"I'm okay, Dean-"

" _'I'm okay'_ my ass, Cas," Dean grumbles before helping Connor hold up his other side. Dean looks at Connor. "Diagnosis, doctor?"

Connor makes a face as he's not a doctoring or nursing android, but explains anyways. Sam had run to the Chicken Feed and back with a towel and applied it to Cas' head.

Being as Sam and Dean had run over to them, Hank now catches up, clutching himself and his head with both hands in pain. "What the fuck happened to him?"

Connor didn't risk Castiel speaking anymore. "An object had been dropped on his head," he explained, "causing him to lose blood and consciousness."

Sam wrung his fingers and ran a hand down his face. "Here, lead him over here to a bench. Dean, Hank and I did some talking. We know what it was."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to eat your fruits and veggies


	9. Immunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're reading this, just remember you're loved and appreciated.

_**2:41pm. (14:41)** _

The five decided to go to a coffee shop.

Connor had researched and found one that was normally busy during the hour. They risked talking about the situation at hand and others finding out, but they needed to be around more people in case the same thing happened again.

Hank, for one, never wanted it happening again.

"A siren is a creature that can show your greatest desire," Dean explained as they found a table furthest away from people.

"They can take different forms to match what the person wants," Sam added. "Their usual form is a sort of decaying person. They're related to leviathans and monsters."

Hank had his face in his hands. " _Leviathans?_ "

Castiel sat down. "Long story."

"But they're designated from Greek mythology," Sam explained, glancing at the menu at their table. "They don't enjoy killing people or anything but instead to use the ones under their control to do things for them. Say, someone loves another and they use them against the person they love."

Connor looked at him. "Like what?"

"Kill them," Sam said. "They usually move on quickly when they get bored."

"Shit so we have a supposed... _hellhound?_ And now a _siren?_ " Hank asked, leaning back in his chair now.

"Welcome to our world," Dean smirked.

"You can fucking keep it."

Connor looked at the table and furrowed his brow in thought. "It had you three under its.. control. Going by what Sam said, it was showing you three things you all wanted. Desired."

Sam nodded slowly. "They're dangerous, but you and Castiel weren't affected, or at least his vessel Jimmy wasn't?"

"I don't know," Castiel mumbled. "I couldn't even hear if it was making noise."

"Sirens would sing to lure in sailors," Connor commented, still in deep thought.

Castiel nodded. "But every time it tried, no noise would happen."

Dean narrowed his eyes at Connor. "And you heard it singing?"

Connor looked up. "No. More of.. roaring. It didn't sound pleasant."

"It found us when we were most vulnerable," Sam mumbled. "We didn't expect it at all. And there were no people around us when it happened."

"Which gives us one hint," Hank nodded, "and that this is not a one person job."

"There's more accompliances," Connor said.

Dean picked up a random straw. "And they're all loving us."

Sam looked at Castiel and Connor carefully. "What happened after we were.. distracted?"

"You all set down your lunch," Castiel started explaining. He gave as many details as he can as well as the conversations between him and Connor. Dean put in a comment on how he woke up sore, and Connor answered that for Cas.

"We rendered you unconscious," he had said innocently.

Castiel spoke of how they all had begun walking before gaining speed. He then remembered a specific fact.

"Sirens are telepathic," he realized, looking at Sam and Dean in alarm. "How did it not know what I was thinking?"

"Connor came up with the plan, right?" Sam asked, nodding at the android. "The siren wouldn't be able to read his."

"But it must've seen what I was thinking," Castiel mumbled. "It would've seen that I was thinking and about to chase it."

Connor fixed his tie. "It would explain why it increased its volume and pitch of its yelling."

"It was trying harder to _infect_ him?" Hank scoffed. "It knew it was _losing?_ "

"Possibly," Connor nodded at Hank.

Castiel and Connor were both thinking of the same thing: what each of them had desired. Connor had first heard Hank say 'Cole'. Cole must've been the name of some _one_. Someone he wanted. He did a quick examination and found Cole Anderson. His father had been inserted as Hank Anderson.

His son.

Connor found that he had died October 11th of 2035. He had been six years old at the time. Connor could not find anything on a possible mother.

Castiel remembered the time they had faced the horseman of the apocalypse. He had heard of what Sam's.. desire could've been, but he knew that Sirens mostly took the appearance of someone. Castiel frowned. It would be hard to take the appearance of demon blood.

Also at that same time, nothing had worked for Dean. The reason that had been given was that nothing, no matter what, could fill and supply the void in Dean's heart.

Who was someone Dean would've seen that had that objective?

Now Castiel realized he was sounding like Connor.

"So what's our game plan?" Dean asked as he waved over a waiter. "Any ideas?"

"We need a lead," Connor stated firmly. "Somewhere to start."

Hank shrugged. "What if we set up a trick? Trap the son of a bitch."

Sam thought for a moment. "Castiel and Connor are immune, but it knows now that Castiel is since he chased it. It doesn't know, however, that Connor is, right?"

Connor nodded shortly. "Correct. We walked towards it like you three had done and convinced it."

"So why don't we use you?" Dean asked before the waiter walked over. "Small coffee, please." He turned back to them. "Set you up in an open area, wait for it to arrive, and boom. Ambush."

Sam looked at Dean. "You're drinking coffee?"

"What? You see pie or beer on the menu?"

Sam didn't say anything.

Hank waved his hand. "You're wanting to _use_ Connor? Use him as _bait?_ "

"He wouldn't be some sacrifice," Dean rolled his eyes. "We wait for the thing to get close enough or whatever, and then we all jump it."

"And what if it's not alone?" Castiel asked, looking at Dean.

"There's five of us and we've all been through some shit. It would be difficult to take all of us down."

Hank glared at Dean. "But you're using Connor to do it for you."

Connor looked at Hank. "Lieutenant, I can-"

"It's up to Connor," Sam interrupted. He looked at the android and narrowed his eyes slightly. "He can make his own decision."

"Up to you, plastic," Dean said as he took his coffee from the waiter and thanked them.

Connor's LED flickered yellow for a quick second. "I will do what's best for this investigation."

"And that is?"

"I'll do it."

Hank wheeled around at him. "Connor? The fuck are you-"

"I am immune, Lieutenant. I will take the risk," Connor stated firmly. "If it gives us a move on with this case, then I will do it."

"There's a shit load of risk-"

Connor interrupted him. "And I will take it."

Hank rubbed his temples. Of course his partner would do what's best for the investigation. That was all he ever cared about. But if Connor said he wanted to do it, there was no arguing. Connor wouldn't stop until it had happened. Hank favored Sam giving him the choice, but there wasn't a chance Connor would say no because he could die.

Sam, Hank found, also looked disappointed by the choice, but didn't dare make it public.

"We can do it tonight," Dean said as he sipped his coffee and made a face of disgust and curiosity. "Somewhere open."

"And it will work?" Castiel asked them, looking at them all. "We can guarantee it will come back?"

"Can't we just wear earplugs?" Hank groaned.

Dean smirked. "Wouldn't work anyways." He looked at Cas. "And it's a start. Me, Sam, and Hank will stand the furthest away so it's singing won't affect us. You will be closer in case he," Dean nodded at Connor, "needs help."

Connor tilted his head to the side. "Will it not pick up Castiel's energy level like how he can pick up the siren's?"

"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel commented. "I have more abilities."

"But Connor, you can also scan things and see what they are, right?" Sam asked, setting his menu back. He didn't plan on ordering anything at the moment.

Connor nodded. "Correct. A quick diagnosis and I can tell what things are and what they are not."

"Ooh ooh, scan me," Dean said as he sat forward.

Connor looked confused. "You are human-"

Dean looked at Sam with a look and Sam shook his head shortly. Dean was about to ask but closed his mouth.

"We'll need basic weapons," Castiel changed the subject. "If the siren returns as well as the possible hellhound."

"And other shit can show up to the party too, right?" Hank sighed.

Sam got out a piece of small paper and began writing. "Werewolves, vampires, banshees, changelings, ghosts, demons, djinn, wendigos, wraiths, kitsune-"

"Goddammit," Hank said as he exhaled slowly. "That's enough for the rest of the time I have left."

"It's decided," Dean said. "Tonight we'll place him somewhere where we can have good ground. You," he said again, looking at Connor, "better have damn good acting skills for this."

"He fooled it last time," Sam said.

Dean scoffed. "This is bigger than we hoped. Tonight's gonna be a show."

"I'm too old for this," Hank grumbled as the five stood up to leave. It was time for preparation, and now they needed all the planning and time they could get.


	10. Course of Action

Sam looked into potential premises to where they could plan everything. He found a centralized park on the eastside of Detroit that had a fairly open area.

Their plan was simple, which worried Sam. Dean left to buy and find some silver knives. In case of the potential hellhound, Hank gave them some salt from his place. He had been able to run by quickly and grab some since his house was still under investigation.

Castiel had his angel blade in case of silver, but Dean knew they needed more. He'd given himself and everyone else something of pure iron in case of the hellhound returning.

Sam knew they were going in blindly.

Whatever attacked them has had the upper hand: leading them around like lost sheep. There was no guarantee as to how many monsters and creatures could show up later.

This was all they had to go on.

And that worried Hank, too.

Castiel had offered the use of salt shotgun shells like they've used in the past, but Connor turned it down.

"As much as a firearm would be useful in this situation, it's too risky. The shots would alarm others in the area and only create more trouble," he'd explained.

Hank shook head. "Like the siren's singing, roaring or whatever, won't cause enough attention."

"It only influences those who it's trying to lure," Sam told him. "It shouldn't be a problem."

"Shit, hopefully."

While the area would be dark as they planned it for tonight, the lamps and surrounding posts should keep it lit. They all ran over the plan countless times, making sure no one forgot any step.

Hours passed and the time drew nearer.

They armed Connor with his own salt shaker and a silver knife. They checked out the area previously, picking a bench they would have him sit at. Castiel would be nearby, sitting on his own bench and looking busy so as to not steer any looking eyes.

Connor, on the other hand, turned down the offer of sitting at a bench.

"It would leave me open from behind," had been his reasoning, and everyone else agreed.

Sam, Dean, and Hank were the furthest away near the road and ally to the side of the park. In the center of the area was a fountain. Connor would be next to it and Castiel would be about 35 feet away at another bench.

The remaining three were about 100 feet away. It was best for them.

As much as Hank's injury hurt, he hated being vulnerable to whatever the fuck the siren was. He decided not to think much about it.

Dean talked them all through it and gave everyone what they needed. Everyone acquired their own salt and blade or knife of some sort.

"Remember, we're capturing the son of a bitch," Dean told them as he pointed at the map on the table for emphasis. "We need it to talk and explain what the hell is going on."

It was time to put their plan into action.

So why did Connor feel like something was missing?

-

**_9:01pm. (21:01)._ **

Night had fallen.

The sounds of the city around them kept them grounded. The crew knew what they had been getting into, the plan still fresh on their minds like the new warmth of the summer night. Last minute, they had come to a compromise; they planned on somehow getting something tonight in their captivity. The group needed answers more than ever, and even though it was not going to be easy, they had to try.

And Hank knew it the most. He'd complained on the way there about all 'this monster bullshit' and how it had to come down to Hank and Connor to fix it; with the company of Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

Hank grimaced. He knew he shouldn't have a right to complain. If what the three say is true, and that they've been hunting monsters for years, then he should keep his mouth shut. Nonetheless, in the beginning when they had first met, one of them said they had been to hell.

Religion was real? Hank cringed. He'd thought about it but never gave it too much thought. He was never a religious man.

And then Hank thought about how Sam, Dean, and Castiel had time-traveled to get here. Connor also had first calculated they would be around fifty years old.

Which only means that in their year, 2038, they would be about the same age as Hank. In their time, whatever year they had come from? Hank would be their age.

The old Lieutenant didn't like thinking about that.

And how old was the angel? Again, Hank was never religious, but he knew angels lived for a damn long time. Or did they even live? The one with them now can die, but they never age.

"We're here," Sam told them as their taxi came to a stop.

_Fucking-A_ , Hank thought to himself. He didn't dare be left alone with his own thoughts anyways.

They all stepped out carefully, and Hank took a second to view their expressions. They were all very different people, so it was known they'd take reaction to the situation differently.

Sam was concentrated. He, like Dean and Hank, wouldn't even be close to it all. They'd be away, somewhere far, acting like bystanders. Just a liability to the situation at hand.

Castiel and Connor were the same: calculated. Being the two that would be closet, Hank figured that would be fair.

Dean was careful. His eyes kept watching what was around them and kept watch for anything showing up early. Hank goddamn hoped nothing decided to.

They got to their positions easily. Connor left the group, fixing his jacket cuff on the way there. The group had gotten him more human clothes, being as it wouldn't be the wisest to have him walk around in his glowing android jacket.

Connor had disagreed, saying how it wouldn't affect the mission, but Sam and Dean had insisted. Hank agreed, seeing it was nice to finally see him wearing something other than the damn jacket.

Castiel had gotten the clothes, disappearing to somewhere and returning with some. Where he had gotten it all, Hank didn't know nor care. He did, however, know it was good thinking he had gotten Connor a hat to cover up his LED. The clothes helped, but having a bright blue LED or whatever would ruin all they had tried.

So, the plan was in action.

-

...

Minutes had passed. Connor kept acting like he was busy, pacing around the fountain while Castiel kept hidden and looking. Dean, Sam, and Hank began to quietly talk amongst themselves.

"You really think this'll work?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes at Connor from afar.

Sam sighed. "It has to for now. The siren needs to notice that it's Connor from before so it'll take the... bait," he added on at the end.

Hank didn't spare him a glance.

The officer, however, almost fell over when he saw it.

It was walking towards Connor slowly, but not quietly or carefully. It wore a simple jacket, but looked human. Hank sneered. It wasn't Cole.

And Sam and Dean looked closer. They weren't seeing anyone either.

"Tin can? The fuck are you doing out here?" everyone heard.

Castiel saw Connor's LED flash yellow brightly before the android turned around quickly to face the entity. He stepped back, hand on his pocket.

The thing held up his hands before stopping and then taking one step forward. "You're wearing clothes? _Normal_ clothes?"

Connor registered who it was. He glanced quickly at Castiel and shook his head before turning back.

Gavin Reed.

Connor could see him now that he'd come under the light of the lamppost.

"Detective Reed," Connor greeted neutrally, fighting back the sudden rise of frustration towards the officer. He just had to show up when they were about to do something.

Gavin scoffed and crossed his arms. "Hey, _plastic_ , you didn't answer either of my questions."

Connor looked at him on purpose, giving the intent he needed to hear them again. Gavin swore under his breath.

"I asked what the hell you're doing out here and why you're wearing normal clothes," he demanded.

Connor came up with a quick lie. "I am on my way to Cyberlife."

"On your way?" Gavin challenged. "I watched you for two minutes. You've been pacing here." He looked around carefully. "And where's the pain in the ass?"

"Who?" Connor asked innocently.

Gavin took a step forward. "Your dumbass partner," he said.

"According to your recent names for me, I would conclude I was the partner you would refer to as such," Connor told him. "Lieutenant Anderson is still registered as my partner for this investigation; I do not have to answer to you."

"You plastic prick," Gavin mumbled. "Wanna explain why the shit I wake up in a taxi? With a note on my forehead written in your little plastic font?"

Connor recalled the incident. "You had too many drinks, Detective Reed."

"I know _goddamn well_ I had not drank anything after leaving the hospital with you," Gavin stepped forward again. He was furious, and now he and Connor were only four feet apart.

The RK800's LED spun yellow. "A prominent effect of alcohol consumption is memory loss," he explained. "Some people experience what doctors call a blackout when they drink too much alcohol and don't remember key details. These situations can range from small, such as where a person put their keys, to large, such as forgetting what happened at the time."

Gavin walked up and was now right in front of the android. He poked Connor in the chest, glaring at him from a shorter height. "I know you're fucking up to something," he sneered. "You told Anderson something you didn't tell me and now you're out here alone waiting in _people_ clothes, and I'm gonna find out what it is."

Connor acknowledged the time they were losing. He couldn't spare Gavin staying here any longer.

"I think it would be wise for you to leave, Detective Reed," Connor mumbled.

Gavin laughed. A short, chipped laugh. "You think? _You think?_ You're just plastic; you can't think shit for yourself."

"Detective Reed," Connor started, interrupting him, "why do you hate me as such?"

Gavin looked like he was about to say something, but fell short. He tried again, but instead stepped back. "'Hate me'. _'Why do you hate me as such?'_ " he repeated sniveling. "Whether I get someone new involved, I don't give a shit."

He stepped as close as ever to Connor.

"I will find out what you and Anderson are up to."

Connor kept a neutral posture and composure. Gavin shook his head until he turned a shoulder, mumbling to himself.

"For the record, Detective, the Lieutenant appreciates you visiting. You two may not get along well, but he needed the company," Connor told him.

And he thought it was the right thing to do. For starters, he didn't need Reed breathing down his neck, analyzing every little thing he did. That would only lead to him potentially finding out about their supernatural business, and Connor knew it would only get worse.

Lastly, he didn't and never wanted a negative relationship with Detective Reed. In case of future use, having him at a hostile status would not give him any leads.

And to add, the Detective had never answered why he did not like Connor's presence.

Gavin, on the other hand, was fuming. He asked himself why he had even bothered walking up to the android in the first place. He knew Connor pissed him off sometimes, but why had he tried?

He wanted to kick himself now. To even think something as _dumb_ and _obedient_ as an android was working with someone of the _police force_ on an undercover project. Connor hadn't even been required to answer any of Gavin's questions, pertaining to the same excuse as _'Lieutenant Anderson is the only one I have registered as my partner'_. Gavin sneered and kicked a rock.

But as much as he hated it with every fiber in his body, the piece of plastic was up to something. Gavin was sure. No matter how sickeningly innocent it acted, he knew androids could plan shit out. He knew they could be useful in the informatic area.

And the addition of how the Lieutenant appreciated his company? He hated Anderson. Headass of a cop couldn't even wake himself up in the mornings, nonetheless solve a case on his own.

Gavin hated them. He hated them all.

Or did he?

-

"Connor, you son of a-" Hank started, but Dean interrupted, raising a hand.

Dean chuckled. "Is that the cop he said I was like?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, he's the one."

Dean glanced at Hank with a look. "And you _really_ appreciated the visit?"

"Connor's, yeah. That dick's? _Fuck_ no," Hank grumbled and he narrowed his eyes at Connor. "Connor, you smug prick."

"It worked though," Sam pointed out. "He left."

"Yeah," Hank scoffed. "For now. Gavin and Connor have one thing in common; neither of them will leave you the fuck alone."

Sam tilted his head and dropped the binoculars he had. "Maybe he had a reason. Maybe with telling," he faltered, then remembered his name, "Detective Reed that, it would help leave you alone."

"Maybe, but it's _Gavin Reed_ ," Hank emphasized. "The guy makes Connor's life harder for entertainment."

"Have you ever considered his side?" Sam asked thoughtfully. "Why does he hate androids like Connor?"

"If he can stop being an ass for once, then maybe yeah," Hank mocked. "I'll start up a friendly chat with the jackass."

"Guys, look," Dean interrupted, pointing and grabbing Sam's binoculars. "We got a visitor."

-

Castiel noticed it instantly. With this, he readied his angel blade, knowing Connor would catch on quickly, too. One thing he hoped was that Sam, Dean, and Hank were far enough away.

And it was true; Connor noticed quickly from his audio processors picking up the sound of footsteps. He turned, slowly, keeping his hand on the pocket where his blade was. There, about twenty feet away, it stood.

Connor had time to finally register its appearance. It was hairless and covered in its own pinkish and grey skin. It's nose was slitted, just like a serpent's, and it's mouth reached up to it. As it slowly crept closer, keeping its composure close to a humans, Connor was able to get a better view.

Fifteen feet away now. It's mouth was like it was strung together by thread just to keep it intact. It's eyes, or more of sunken eye sockets, were void of life. It's eyes were glossed over, as if the creature had been dead for ages.

It's skin was clinging on to the little it had. The bones underneath shone greatly under the lamp post illumination and moonlight, creating small silhouettes as it edged closer and closer to Connor.

The RK800 kept his distance but didn't dare move. He did a quick dialysis scan, receiving no information on the entity. He decided to log some information himself, seeing as that would be the only beneficial option.

He remembered the past event: how it sang and lured in humans. It showed them what they truly desired, making their victim desperate and longing.

For Connor to keep up the act, he had to wait for it to start singing, or in his case, start screeching, as the song didn't affect him nor the angel.

Other than its main defence of distracting its target, what else did it have? No long finger nails or claws. No human weapon. Castiel had explained its speed being greater than a humans, but was that all there was?

Was this a case that sirens could be pack hunters? Something had stopped Castiel when he was chasing the siren, so something else is helping. Another siren, or some other monster?

And what of the potential hellhound tracks from before? Bringing up his past readings, there wasn't a way a hellhound could have quickly climbed a building, been high enough, and dropped an object in perfect time upon the angel's head. By his scan, it had to be similar to a human.

So he referenced the possible shifter, but they knew that. Connor does what he did when they first found the siren, and does a circular area analysis.

_Analyzing..._

_Examining..._

_30%... 73%... 99%..._

**_Scan complete._ **

Connor frowned. Ten signatures.

First five were registered: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Hank Anderson, Castiel, Connor.

Five readings that weren't familiar. Connor analyzed further.

Energy readings like Castiel's but not similar.

He wasn't alone, and they were surrounded.

By now, the siren was close enough to get a look at Connor. It stood six feet away and began to sing its horrid song. It creeps slowly forward, and Connor plays along.

He takes one step forward, and then another, bringing him closer. He keeps his hand in his pocket, preparing.

Connor wants to cringe at the horrid song. He wondered what it really sounded like to Sam, Dean, and Hank. Some kind of lullaby? Connor wasn't a maid android, so he didn't know any lullabies.

Analysis reads he has a 77% chance of killing the siren.

He feels it drop to 49% when it steps back.

It stares at him closely before taking another step back, and then another. It screeches horribly, and then begins to charge at Connor.

His android combat programming kicks in. He slides to the side, giving him enough time. He grabs his blade from his jacket pocket, twisting it in his hands and turns. It growls and sneers before jumping at him again.

Connor brings his hand up, ready to jab the blade into its skull, but it slides away, just like he had done to it. As it circles him from five feet away, Connor follows its eyesight.

It knows he has a silver blade.

Connor swears. He should've been quicker with it, not giving it time and area. If this mission is ruined because of him, he couldn't move on from it.

Castiel, however, notices their placement. In a line, it's him at the far end and the siren stands between him and Connor. The siren's back is facing him, and Castiel gets an idea.

He drops his angel blade.

The sound of the complete silver bouncing on the concrete causes the siren to whip around and meet Castiel's eyes. It roars loudly, causing a bit too much for Connor's audio processors to handle, but he doesn't waste time.

He advances, gripping the silver blade, and plunges it into the siren's head.

Sam heard the sick crunch as Connor impaled it and reeled. The siren wailed before falling to the ground.

Dead.

Everyone watches as Connor returns the silver blade to his hand after placing his foot on the things back and wrenching it out.

Sam, Dean, and Hank stand and begin to make their way towards Connor, but the android stops them with a quick look and a held up hand.

"What's he doing?" Dean asked quickly, looking at Sam and Hank. "What's that mean?"

"It means stop, dumbass," Hank grumbled. "The hell else you think it means?"

"Be quiet," Sam mumbled quickly. "Connor's telling us to stay put."

Dean and Hank were quiet. They both understood.

Sam sighed and looked around. "We aren't alone."


	11. Continuation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; indirect mention of s/icide

Connor knew they had gotten his sign. Castiel walked up next to him.

"Can you tell what's around us?" the angel asked him.

Connor nodded, and did another analysis.

_Analyzing..._

_Examining..._

_16%... 57%... 99%..._

**_Scan complete._ **

"Nine signatures," Connor mumbled. "Already neutralized one. One is directly in front of me, ten degrees right. Another is closer to Sam, Dean, and Hank. Approximately 18 feet away from them. The other two... I can't pinpoint."

Castiel looked around. "Is there any way you can tell what they are?"

Connor closed his eyes for a second before opening them. "No."

"Any more sirens?"

"That I can tell," Connor nodded, tilting his head to the side. "There aren't any more sirens, but there's more. Two have the same reading... and the last two are different from the rest."

Castiel turned around and nodded at the group of three before pointing only at Hank. Hank held up his hand and pointed at himself, mouthing 'me?' at Castiel before the angel nodded shortly. Hank stood and met up with them.

"Saw you kill the son of a bitch," Hank sighed. "Wait. Why am I the only one you called over?"

"Stay here with Connor," Castiel said before disappearing.

Hank looked around until he saw him with Sam and Dean. "The hell?"

"Quiet, Lieutenant," Connor whispered. "Listen."

Hank was about to retort before he remembered how serious the situation was. He remembered Sam saying they weren't alone, so he shut up and looked around.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The usual bustling and activity Detroit accompanied had diminished. The air was still and heavy; signs of a warm summer night, but it didn't feel right. It didn't feel like Hank should even breathe it. He glanced at Connor who held completely still, his own eyes surveying the area around them carefully. Hank mimicked him.

"What can you pick up?" he whispered.

Connor didn't glance back. "Four more of them. Two are the same and the last are different as well."

"Shit."

Castiel appeared next to them in seconds, giving Hank a minor heart attack himself. "The fu-"

"Sam and Dean are scouting the outer perimeter," Castiel informed them, holding a hand to silence the officer. "I told them of your report."

"Scouting-?"

"SON OF A BITCH."

All three turned quickly to the sound of the noise and saw both Sam and Dean on their backs on the ground not too far away. They both groaned in pain before standing and holding their blades.

"Sam? Dean?" Connor yelled at them. If their location hadn't been given away from Dean's fraudulent yelling, Connor would've helped out. "What happened?"

Sam had looked at his brother and commented something which led to Dean nodding.

"Hellhound?"

"Hellhound."

Sam and Dean went back to back before hearing it again. They heard it before they saw it of course, giving they couldn't see it no matter how hard they tried. It's growling was surrounding from everywhere, giving them no pinpoint as to where anything was.

Dean swore under his breath before he readied his own salt. "Once I throw the salt, you're going to make a move, alright Sam?"

Sam nodded and that was all Dean needed.

He heard the scuttling of its feet and whipped the salt around spraying it out in front of him. He heard the hellhound wail in pain.

"Sam!" the older brother yelled.

And so the younger brother responded. He jumped forward and stabbed whatever was there with his iron blade, impaling it.

One down, three to go.

Sam and Dean were about to catch their breath and return to the others, but then steps sounded again. And they were running _right_ towards them.

"Shit, Sam, behind you!"

Sam reeled around and swung his blade, but hit nothing. He looked around, his hair getting in his face, and got a glance at Dean.

They swapped tactics; Dean grabbed his iron blade and put away his salt. Sam got out his own salt but still held his blade close.

They listened and heard it in seconds. Its growl was close so Sam threw the salt and Dean dashed forward, impaling the second hellhound in seconds.

Two down, two to go.

Dean scoffed, getting his own breath. "Wish we had those hellhound glasses, huh."

Sam exhaled shortly in recognition of Dean. They both turned to head back to everyone else, but they now realized.

They had been the distraction.

Three fights were commencing; Castiel and Hank were off to their left side, each fighting an android in close combat. Hank had found himself a trash can lid and was using it to deflect the androids hits whilst also trying to jab at it with his blade.

Castiel and the other android circled each other, keeping a close eye. The android moved forward and Castiel went into it, twisting away at the last second, his trenchcoat moving swiftly behind him. He tried to get a hit on the android, but it grabbed the angel's arm and twisted the blade out. It slid away, giving Castiel time to pick up his weapon.

"It looks like it's taunting Cas," Dean mumbled, beginning to pick up his pace and run towards them.

They hadn't, however, noticed Connor off to their right until Sam pointed him out. He was fighting.. a human?" But they fought with their fists instead; why wasn't Connor using his blade?

Sam noticed it before Dean. "He's already wounded them!"

It was true. Whoever Connor was fighting had a puncture right below their collarbone. They bled, but their blood was red. Was he really fighting a human?

-

Hank ignored the immense flaring pain in his shoulder. The bullet wound was enough as hell, but now he was fighting some android? He had already slipped up and shown he had pain there which just gave the android ideas. It's now sole purpose was to hit and cause Hank as much pain as possible there.

"Yeah," Hank huffed out, taking a step back to get his breath back, "Connor is the only android I can stand. You didn't make the cut."

The android stepped back and gave him a look of disgust. "Like I came here for your approval, Hank Anderson. None of us give a shit if you die."

"How the hell do you know my name?" Hank asked them. They smirked.

"Less talking, more making sure you don't leave here _alive_."

They charged Hank, going in for another throat punch, and Hank was just able to put up his arm in time.

Hank was saved at the last second as Sam ran forward and stabbed the android in their side, making them swear profoundly. They stumbled back, frustratingly clawing at the blade in their side. Sam took a step back with Hank.

The android managed to tear the blade out, and Sam and Hank furrowed their brows. The blood was red.

"You're no damn android," Hank noticed.

"Are you a shifter?" Sam asked.

The android sneered. "Doesn't matter. I don't have to tell you if I don't have to."

"You're here for something," Hank tried. He pleaded for time for his shoulder to stop flaring in pain. "Connor said this wasn't random. You planned this out."

"Maybe you aren't as dumb as you look," they mumbled, crossing their arms. "Maybe there is a reason we're here. Tell me, old man, what was written on the wall in your house the night you were shot?"

"The night I was shot.." Hank thought and then glared at them. "How do you know I was shot?"

They rolled their eyes. "I'll give you one hint. One of us did it."

" _One of you fuckers shot me-?_ "

"You didn't answer the question," they mumbled. "What was written on your wall?"

Hank was still fuming about the fact one of them had shot him when he was sleeping and gave him a large costing hospital bill, but moved on. He had to wrack his brains to remember, not one memory coming to mind. Connor had told him.

What had Connor said?

"Time's up," they complained. "'We haven't forgotten about you' had been written. Anything coming to your pea brain now?"

"Always hated peas," Hank mumbled.

They took a step forward and pointed at Hank. "That should answer your question. I am not going to tell you anything more."

Hank had gotten his breath by now. Information and his own thoughts were still reeling in his head, but the shifter wasn't going to give him more time to wait it out. He raised his blade.

"Bring it on, you skin-shedding headass."

-

About 54 feet away, Castiel battled his own android.

"Why are you here?" Castiel interrogated, the two of them still circling each other. "Why are you doing this?"

His android kept their distance. She didn't want to come too close, but didn't want to be far enough away. They wanted to keep their ground, not letting the angel get the upper need.

"We have to," the android mumbled quietly. "We don't have a choice-"

"You're lying," Castiel interjected. "Everyone has a choice. Why did you choose this?"

The android looked to her friend a ways away and shook their head. "They needed me to come along." They looked back at Castiel. "This is much bigger than you think?"

Castiel stopped circling and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean-"

"LOST! If you say one more damn word, this will all be for NOTHING!" the other android shouted, and the one Castiel was fighting, likely named Lost, sighed.

When Castiel followed their gaze, he noticed the other android was bleeding. Red blood.

"Your friend isn't an android," Castiel mumbled. "What are you?"

Lost shook her head. "It won't mean anything. None of this will change."

Castiel stepped forward, but Lost stepped back. "What do you mean none of this will change? This fight? What do you have planned?"

"It won't mean anything," Lost repeated, turning her gaze back to Castiel. "None of it will."

They charged Castiel.

-

"I already know you're no human," growled Connor's attacker. "It doesn't mean anything different for me."

Connor looked at them with a neutral expression. "You're not human."

"Mm," he thought for a moment, "not quite, I would say. I mean, I used to be." He laughed, short and chipped. "Nothing new."

"Used to be?" Connor asked while he fixed his jacket cuff. "I thought all monsters were born so. Shifters, sirens. What are you?"

The man shook his head. "Aw, that would take away the surprise." He stopped to look around them at the warm and dark Detroit night. "If you ask me, I don't really want to be here. I'd much rather be at home."

"So why are you here?" Connor asked, looking at him confused. "If you do not wish to be here, then why are you?"

"Androids," he sighed. "I love the way you talk. So formal."

"You're dismissing the question."

"Am I?"

Connor glared and waited for a response.

"Fine," he replied, shrugging lightly. "Let's just say it wouldn't do me well to say no to something like this. The risk would be too great. I couldn't take it."

"But you faced a bigger risk coming here," Connor told them impatiently. "My analysis reads you only have a 42% chance of defeating me."

The guy shook his head. "Less than half, if I get my math correct. I was always good at algebra, you know. Just not geometry."

Connor reeled. What was with this guy?

"You created a big problem," they told Connor. "A really big one. Whether you meant to or not, you did."

The RK800 stepped forward. " _What problem?_ "

"I thought you guys were supposed to be smart," he laughed. "I told you before; I can't share-"

"-Because the risk would be too great," Connor mumbled. He looked at them. "There must be something more."

"Who do you think I am, android?" he asked, nodding at Connor. "I want you to tell me."

Connor took a moment to look at who he was really fighting. It was scary, because whoever he was fighting looked normal. He looked human, and that was what conflicted Connor. His examinations have never been incorrect before; he knew they weren't.

Appearance wise, his red hair was fitting for him. If Connor didn't know any better, he would've guessed the guy was a mix between a jock and a nerd from high school. He dressed normally; leather jacket, dark green shirt, jeans, tennis shoes. Glasses, lots of freckles, and Connor frowned. There was nothing indicating he wasn't human.

He tried scanning him for a name; anything that would give him a hint. All he got was Zayden O.. Born October 20th, 1999. Deceased September 11th, 2021.

"Zayden. Deceased September 11th, 2021. You're supposed to be dead," Connor pointed out.

'Zayden' apparently nodded. "It was a long time ago. Seventeen years? Low point in my life, but you're looking at me now, aren't you?"

"You aren't a shifter," Connor figured out. "Castiel and Hank are fighting the two shifters. You're something different."

"And I'm not the hellhounds your two friends killed earlier, either," Zayden helped. He shrugged. "But I don't want to tell you yet. Maybe we can make a compromise?"

Connor waited for them to continue.

Zayden nodded. "You see my friend over there? Fighting the older one," he pointed out. "They're the one we're all here for. And the other fighting the trenchcoat guy? They came along to help the first friend."

"And your purpose?" Connor asked.

"Comedic relief," Zayden chuckled, but rolled his eyes when Connor wasn't having fun. "They need me. That's all there is to it."

"A favor."

"No," Zayden shook his head, "one said there was something we needed to do. They explain it to me, my other friend, well they jump in, and they both request me for help. I agree. The reason was different, but I understood what they were coming from."

"You're not doing this for any gain," Connor noticed.

Zayden shook their head. "No, no gain."

"And you said you understand where they're coming from," the android mumbled. "Which means I was corrected in knowing this isn't a random attack. It's a coordinated one. You're doing it for revenge or for something you need."

"Okay, I underestimated you maybe a little," Zayden said, raising his hands. "I can't let you find out any more or else they'll kill me before you do."

Connor paused. "My analysis reads you aren't an immediate threat."

Zayden looked hurt at that. "Damn. Well, let's make a compromise, mm? I surely don't want to die, and while I don't know too much about androids, I can say you don't want to die either?"

"... I can't want anything," Connor said.

Zayden shrugged but moved on anyways. "Let's continue our little brawl here and we both can get off. I can punch you and then run, leaving you here and both of us not beaten into a bloody pulp. Or, in your case, a mechanical pulp."

Connor then thought of an idea. A simple one, yet extremely complex if it went through. He tilted his head towards him.

"What if you came with us?" Connor persuaded. "How are you sure your.. friends.. aren't using you? They only needed you for backup: extra manpower. You said it wouldn't look good on you if you didn't come."

Zayden grimaced. "No, you've got it all wrong. First off, I'm not just going to leave them to die here. Second, they aren't using me. I told you; one told me their story, and I agreed with it. It wouldn't look good on me if I agreed but didn't help them." He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, it was nice of both of them to offer me along."

"This is getting nowhere," Connor mumbled frustratingly.

Zayden nodded. "So we are getting the same vibe."

"...Vibe?"

"Early 2000s slang, I guess," he laughed. "You're a little young for that. Let's continue?"

Zayden advanced on Connor.

-

Sam had run to help Hank and Dean had run to give Cas a hand.

Dean knew something was going on with Connor and the other.. whatever he was fighting. Why didn't they use weapons? Connor had already stabbed who he was fighting. Why wasn't he still using his blade?

Whoever he was fighting wasn't presenting as an android, so there was a chance that they couldn't be a shifter. His first analysis said there were four monsters left: two of the same, and then another two that were different from everyone.

Dean tried to stab the shifter he was fighting. There had also been two hellhounds. If Dean did his math correctly, then there would be still three left, and they've killed two.

One either slipped under the androids examination, or he was faulty.

Dean sidestepped as Castiel ran in and tried for an attack. Plastic couldn't like; Dean had to hand it to him. He was smart. Being a police plastic, he wanted to finish this case. He wouldn't lie on purpose.

And why would he lie about the monster count when he was fighting one himself?

Or, seemed to be fighting. It looked like neither of them wanted anything to do with the other.

Dean had told the group they needed at least one of them to interrogate: to find out their 'big plan'. The shifter he and Cas were fighting now would be their best bet, seeing as the other would throw a fit and wouldn't tell us anything.

And who's to even guarantee any of them will say anything?

It would be easiest to capture one of the shifters. Dean knew what they were capable of and could prevent or be ready for any surprises. Whoever Connor was fighting, though, was a wild card. Connor had stabbed him, but it clearly didn't affect him.

Werewolf? It was a full moon, though. He would've turned.

And he wasn't a siren because he wasn't someone Dean would want. He knew who the siren showed up as for him.

Dean wracked his brain as he continued fighting. His own thoughts were loud among the shuffling of feet, swinging hands and blades, and groans of pain. Leviathan? No. They had fought so many monsters, Dean was having trouble pinpointing.

Since they had already fought two hellhounds and were now fighting two shifters, they seemed to be common monsters. Two things were certain: they weren't a shifter or a werewolf. The silver would've killed him already if he'd been a shifter, and there was no chance he was an alpha.

What of a vampire? It was likely. The stab wouldn't affect him because he'd need his head to be sliced off. It was the only way to kill one.

Dean took a step back, getting an idea. He turned to Connor. "Plastic!" he yelled, "he's probably a vampire!"

Dean watched as the guy tilted his head as he stepped back. His face was neutral, and showed no sign of surprise or worry.

The shifter landed a punch to Dean's face.

"A vampire?" Connor asked them, doing a scan.

Zayden crossed his arms. "Maybe."

"We just need to know why you're doing this," Connor pleaded. "It doesn't have to continue. Killing innocent humans won't change anything."

Zayden nodded at the one android fighting Hank and Sam. "I have a feeling they'll have filled them in a little bit," he said. He looked back to Connor. "Fake fight me."

Connor obliged, having no reason or idea why. If it was a way to get answers from the potential vampire, he'd go alone with it.

"You're an investigation android," Zayden continued. "What's your model? I know you have an LED and every android comes with a jacket or uniform, correct?"

Connor faked a punch. "How do you know of my LED?"

"Your hat slipped while we were fighting," Zayden admitted. "The bright yellow is easy to see when it's nighttime."

Connor swore. "I have no reason to tell you my model."

"And I have no reason to tell you why any of this is happening," Zayden said back. "But you, for reference, an investigation android. I've never seen one of those before. Are you new?"

"I'm a prototype," Connor mumbled, taking a small blow from Zayden as he ran behind him and hit him in the neck.

"So you're different from the rest," Zayden nodded as he stepped away, smiling mischievously. "You definitely have some sort of fighting interface. A combat program? You must be a more advanced model."

"How do you know this?" Connor asked, truly not understanding why. "Where did you learn all of it?"

Zayden began to circle Connor. "You found out yourself; I was born in 1999. I've been here, seeing you androids get released everywhere. You're on the streets, in workplaces, in people's homes. It's not hard to notice some of you are designed for different things. And your models? That's easy to figure out. Construction androids being one model, maid androids being another. You, however, said you're a prototype. Being a police android, you're an advanced model."

Dean looked back over at Connor and made a face since they weren't fighting. "You have to slice off its head, dumbass!"

Zayden rolled his eyes. "That's if your assumption is correct," he pointed out.

In the distance, Sam was able to hit the shifter in the head so hard, they crumpled to the ground in a heap, unconscious. Dean and Castiel saw the signal and both rounded on their shifter, Dean hitting it hard too so it fell to the ground unconscious.

"LIAM! LOST!" Zayden yelled, worry slipping from his voice at their unconscious selves. "Shit, _shit_." He turned on Connor furiously. "What do you plan on doing to them?"

Sam had walked over to Connor. "We're going to ask them a few questions," he told Zayden.

Connor saw how conflicted Zayden looked. Did he not expect any of them would lose?

"You've already killed one!" Zayden yelled. "How can I be sure you won't kill them?"

"If they've killed innocent people," Dean interrupted. "We will kill them." He looked at Zayden. "Same goes for vamps."

Zayden glared at him. "Sam and Dean Winchester."

"In the flesh."

"Never thought I'd see you two again," they mumbled, scoffing at Dean. "It's surely a surprise."

Dean's face fell at the 'see you again part' as he remembered what they'd found out the first time they'd traveled to the year 2038. Sam had told him that he'd gone missing and Dean gave up looking for him. He shook his head.

"Dammit," one of the shifters mumbled from the ground, already waking up, "fucking _run_ Zayden!"

Zayden was already taking a step back. "It won't be for long," he told the shifter sadly before Hank was already knocking the two out.

He took off full speed away from them, sprinting, not once looking back. Connor started running, yelling "Wait!" but Sam held him back.

He looked at Connor. "You heard yourself. It won't be the last time we see them."

"We already got these two shits here," Hank grumbled, still holding his side.

"Lieutenant," Connor started, "your wound. You should cease further straining movement."

Hank rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I figured out that much."

Sam began to lift the shifters. "We need to get out of here. We shouldn't stay any longer unless he brings backup."

"Where will we be taking them?" Connor asked, helping Sam.

"Could do my place," Hank suggested. "Fowler told me they've cleared out, but it's still being kept under close watch. Could be a last resort."

"A motel?" Castiel suggested, lifting the other with Dean. "There must be one around here."

"Find one that can have androids, Connor," Hank told the RK800. "It's the best choice we got right now."

"Some motels can restrict androids?" Sam asked as they began walking to a more hidden area. Being in the middle of a deserted park with two unconscious 'androids' definitely wouldn't look good.

Connor nodded. "Yes they can."

Ten seconds passed and Connor found one. "Treeway's Inn," he told them all. "It's not too far from here."

"Anything will work," Dean complained. "These guys are heavy as hell."

Sam nodded in agreement and he helped move the one android along with Connor as they all made their way to the hotel. He hoped it was a lesser known one; if they were going to interrogate these two, it would need to be a quieter area.

Sam guessed, on the other hand, that if something were to happen, anyone would believe a human's say rather than an androids. There was no doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> additions of some nb ocs because y'all are valid asf


End file.
